Possession
by qwertykay
Summary: The Venatori have been active, constantly seeking out ancient runes and writings, trying to summon things from beyond Thedas. When they succeeded, the Inquisition was there. What was brought over from beyond the Fade didn't answer any questions, but raised many regarding the worlds beyond Thedas.
1. Chapter 1 - The Hissing Wastes

"Inquisitor, a moment?"

Cassandra approached the tall elf pondering over a map with Scout Harding. His pale skin and white hair that fell past his shoulders were brightly illuminated by the flames of the candles on the requisitions table, casting flickering shadows over his scarred and tattooed face. One look from woman to woman and Scout Harding nodded, taking her leave. Sariel turned to the human, his green eyes squinting still from inspecting the little detail of the Wastes that was given to him.

"What is it?"

"I have heard news of more Red Templars and mages gathering in the North West from Leiliana's men," she said. "We should leave immediately while we are unnoticed still."

Sariel returned his gaze to the map and sighed. Straightening his back with a few clicks, he retied his long white hair into a bun.

"Ready the others. We leave soon with the troop. If Scout Harding wants some to remain, she may have them."

The Seeker nodded, and turned to go, but paused. She examined the Inquisitor, his weary expression and focus on the documents in front of him.

"Inquisitor? Is something the matter?"

He didn't answer immediately, continuing to trace lines between places on the sketches of the Hissing Wastes. "This place used to be a vast, green area of forest, thousands of years ago. Then we have found dwarven ruins on the surface. Venatori forces have gathered here for some unknown purpose, and we are going to pursue them." He sighed and folded up the parchments. "I fear that we may not be prepared for what they have been searching for."

"And it is because of your carefulness that we are even here," replied Cassandra. She met his hard eyes, seeing sombre lines etched with his scars and Elven markings on his face. "We will discover what is happening, and we will stop them."

Sariel breathed a laugh, shaking his head. "Yes. Yes we will."


	2. Chapter 2 - Stop Venatori Activity

Bright flashes. Sand and dirt in the air and lungs. The Venatori had been preparing a casting, a summoning. When the Inquisition infiltrated the camp, it was too late to stop the ritual. The red mages laughed in the face of Sariel as their leader activated the spell before the elf's great sword pierced his belly. The Inquisitor swiped the four mages with his silver edged shield and finished them before they could scream. But it didn't stop the glowing, the darkness coming in, the green lightning and chaos of the Fade appearing before them. The remaining Red Templars, Venatori and Inquisition forces alike all stared in awe, then were blasted to the ground. The power of the explosion emitted from the summoning deafened everything to a muffled ring. It was bright, and then it was absolute darkness.

"Inquisitor!"

Sariel forced his eyes open. Flames and smoke filled the air, clashes of steel and silver. Magic flying through. The battle continued.

He dragged himself up, knocking sand out of his helmet then jumped to his feet, wavering, finding his sword where he had lain but his shield was further on. A yell, and coughing, gurgling. Cassandra brought a man to his knees, blood pouring from his front.

"Inquisitor!" She called again, as Sariel ran towards her, collecting his shield and positioning his back to hers. The Red Templars were dwindling in numbers, divided between Varric's crossbow and Leiliana's rogues, Solas' magic and the warriors' swords and shields. With swift deliberate blows, Cassandra and Sariel cut down the remaining men in front of the banners of the Venatori camp before them as arrows took apart those trying to flee the light and the field of battle behind them. The ruins of the camp lay scattered from the explosion; no more Red Templars appeared, and Cassandra began wiping down her blade and chest plate as the rogues checked bodies for life and items.

Suddenly, an aura of blue appeared around Sariel and Cassandra – Solas' protection spell. The elf was focussing ahead of them, seeing something, and Sariel turned, shield up and blade ready in hand as Cassandra took position to his side. They peered at the darkness that was the centre of the blast, out of the fire's light where the Fade rift had briefly pierced from the summoning and torn the camp apart. Where the humans struggled to see, the Elven Inquisitor and the mage saw the outlines of the Venatori bodies, and someone standing above them. Floating. Solas had slowly and silently approached Sariel, his eyes not leaving the being hidden in the darkness, hand out before him, holding up the barrier between them and the unknown.

"Oh, I see it!" A crossbow released. An arrow whistled through the air past the being's head – brushing their hair, making it flick around eerily. Varric Tethras chuckled. "Didn't even flinch."

"Show yourself!" Sariel called.

Its head moved, facing them. It had been staring at the ground before, and it moved its leg forward as if taking a step. Then it fell. As it crumbled to the ground, Cassandra and Sariel raced forward, shield first, swiftly side-stepping the rubble as they circled the figure on the ground.

It was a woman, collapsed naked on the sand, face hidden under curls of black hair. Cassandra frowned and looked at the Inquisitor. He walked around her, and prodded her feet carefully with the tip of his blade. Silently motioning for their troop to move forward cautiously, Sariel watched as Solas came forward quickly, dropping the protection spell and kneeling to the woman, staff still in hand.

"Be careful," warned Cassandra. She shot a look at Sariel. "She could still bite."

The mage held his hands over her bare back, white ghosts of magic floating in the space between the woman and the elf. She twitched and her hair ruffling aside as part of her face was revealed. Black tattoos traced her forehead, leaves twining across, symmetrical on both sides.

Solas looked up at the Inquisitor with a grim face, hands dropping.

"She is alive."

"Who is she?"

Solas shook his head. "It seems we have found the reason why the Venatori are here."

"Is she awake?" asked Cassandra.

"No. She is unconscious. the force of travelling through a Fade rift takes its toll." The apostate looked at Sariel. "It seems you aren't the only one able to travel physically through the Fade."

The Inquisitor's eyes darted to her hands.

"Does she bear a mark?"

Moving her arm from under her, Solas inspected them, confusion sweeping across his face. "No. She does not."

"What does this mean?" The Seeker bent down, covering the woman with cloaks she had taken from some archers. "Is she...a demon?"

The Inquisition stared at the stranger before them. The remains of the camp burned from the fires spread by Solas and the archers during the fight. The sandy gusts of wind made them squint in the darkness even more, until the lightening of the sky beyond the mountain range began. It was nearing sunrise.

"Should we just kill her?" Everyone looked down at the dwarf, who shrugged offhandedly. "Well someone was thinking it!"

"Sariel?" Cassandra queried.

The tall elf weighed up the options. He nudged her feet again with his boot this time and Varric scoffed.

"If this is the reason why the Venatori were out here," Sariel began, "then we should take her back to Skyhold for questioning. However..." He inspected each of his companion's faces and those of the rogue troops. "She has been summoned through a Fade rift and we cannot rule the possibility of her being a demon. Nor should we kill her and lose possible information about Corypheus..." Varric was wincing as the Inquisitor spoke. The mage elf was silent, watching the woman as Cassandra sighed, nodding to Sariel's words.

"She's come from somewhere. We need to find out where. And why." He turned to his archers and spies. "We take her back to Skyhold. Transport her back to camp. Forewarn Scout Harding."

"This is not a good idea," muttered Varric as he packed his crossbow. Solas stepped away from the stranger as the rogues moved in with caution, binding her hands and legs together.

Walking over to Varric as the troops began fashioning a stretcher to move the woman, Sariel patted the dwarf's shoulders. "Don't worry," he said to the concerned look on the shorter man, "we're going with her."


	3. Chapter 3 - Asha

Asha could smell the dust and grain of the old texts, remembering that she had been carrying brand new books to class that day of the bomb threats. She had packed one into her bag with her school laptop as she instructed her fifteen year-olds to take whatever they're holding with them out the door to the oval. Before she left the room she also collected the phone box which housed the students' devices and headphones. Even though each teacher had to lock the door behind them after clearing the room, there's no telling if every other person is thorough in the building where each room connected to the other through the internal connection of doors. Then the ringing stopped, and Asha had paused, wondering if it was an accidental triggering. Then ABBA's 'Dancing Queen' started playing. She had groaned.

The evacuation changed from a fire drill to a full lockdown of the school. She had dropped the phone box back on her desk and swung the door open, waiting for her exasperated kids to come back with faces as impressed as hers. She hadn't noticed how dark it had gotten until she went to close the curtains and blinds of the room. She watched the green and black sky swirl, ethereal. No one was outside.

It was when she was about to lock the door once again after a minute of waiting, cursing herself for being too slow to go with her students who were probably holed up in the indoor gym by now, when she thought she was struck by lightning. Flashes of white and green, torrential pain coursed her body. Sizzling sounds from her head, the acrid stench of burning hair and flesh. Her mouth was open but no sound of screaming could be heard through the rushing of air, wind and what she could only describe as electricity, currenting through herself, whipping all the desks and the sheets in the room into shreddings, a deafening paper tornado cutting her skin as it tore the insides of her once meticulous classroom.

Then the feeling of being punched, and falling.

A dark and vast desert. Sand in her face. Fire and bodies around her. A migraine so painful, everything was blurred, and flashing. What looked like a silver knight with a shield and blade as tall as him. Shadowy figures surrounding her. She tried to move, to say something, but she fell, gasping in agony, clutching her head. She could see the stars, the lightening sky, but her neck was twisted in an unnatural way, and she tucked her head under, into the cool sand. That was the last time she had controlled her own body. The throbbing ebbed, and her mouth was moving on its own, saying words she hadn't wanted to say.

"What is this? Where am I?" Her hand moved on its own, turning, twisting, trialling its movements.

"Who are you, human?"


	4. Chapter 4 - The Exalted Plains

Eighteen days. That is how long it would take the Inquisition to return to Skyhold: constant marching over sand and dirt roads throughout the day and short camps early in the evening, rising before the sun and setting off again. Scout Harding had immediately sent a pair of rogues to Skyhold before Sariel's party had made it back to their forward camp in the Wastes and would have reached the frozen mountains by the time the Inquisitor was travelling through the eerie grasslands of the Exalted Plains. The elf rode ahead of the group with Cassandra, followed by a small formation of horse men, an undersized caravan that rattled over the worn road, then a dispatch of Inquisition soldiers on foot. Standing out from his followers, the Inquisitor's mount was a Tirashan Swiftwind with hair the colour of stained wine and regal horns so large they seemed like a shield in front of the elf.

With his helmet off and his chainmail and sword cleaned and gleaming in the warm afternoon sun, anyone watching the impressive display followed by Inquisition banner men would instantly know the Herald was passing by. Even though the elf would always deny his holy title, nor being a 'Chantry convert' as he would say out of Cassandra's earshot, there was no denying the power he held: the rigour of his command with his troops' tight formation, his experience in battle as marked upon his ageless marked face, his severe eyes constantly tracking their surroundings while holding a conversation with Cassandra. The reins of his hart sat in his hand; the mount followed the merchant road with its own mature whim. They travelled between the ghostly forts of the Dales, its history and landscape marked with relics of war, both human and elven.

They had been here before on the way to the Western Approach and the Wastes. The camps they had setup with Leliana's spies throughout their journey had proven to be invaluable in coordinating information, troops and food stock for the Inquisition. But they also had to restore order to each area, unique in strife and complications. When Sariel was last here, he could not leave without investigating the rumours at the ramparts. This had led them to discover the undead rising again, something he was beginning to get used to as the Veil-created chaos spread across Thedas. The pits of dead bodies at each section of the fortifications were of Empress Celene's troops. The horror demons had found them, and they rose again as marionettes that the Inquisition tore down. The persistent demons had no qualms with bringing them back again and again. So they cut them down, again and again and finally Sariel and Cassandra were able to pin the last demon while Solas disintegrated the being with the raw power of the Fade, the acrid smell and taste of death forever in the air. Then they set alight each of the open graves of Victory Rise. As the bodies new and old burnt together, Sariel remembers Cassandra commenting on their numbers in the pits, that is was intentional. They had all stared at the last burning pit, the ghastly smoke rising into the gray sky. Almost every night since then Sariel has dreamt of fighting the dead. He does not win each time.

"Inquisitor, is that one of the Dalish?" Cassandra pointed beyond the bridge they were crossing to the vast plains ahead. He easily spotted the figure running their way with galloping halla that Cassandra was squinting to see, and recognised his face. Young Loranil was grinning from ear to ear, his bow bouncing on his back as he raced towards the marching Inquisition. The white herd with their long haunting noises dispersed before the bridge as the elf stopped at the end. He was wiping grass seeds from his shoulder padding when they approached him.

"Aneth Ara Herald!" Loranil called as the warriors trotted over ahead of their march. He was still grinning and reached out to Sariel's mount with cooing clicks and hums.

"Aneth Ara," Sariel replied as his mount, Falka, sniffed the elf's palm and allowed him to stroke his neck twice before returning to his full stature.

Loranil laughed and greeted Cassandra as he stood back from the hart.

"Hawen sends his regards Inquisitor, I don't think he realised that I'd be allowed to visit them while working for you."

"Of course you can," Sariel raised a brow. "You asked to join, you weren't conscripted."

"Unlike our mages, although, they got a better deal than they were expecting," Varric said as he came between the hart and the horse, laughable as the top of his head did not reach either of the warriors' waistlines sitting on their mounts. He winked at Sariel. Cassandra sighed.

"What is it?" she snapped.

The dwarf held his hands up in defence. "Easy Seeker, I'm just delivering a message from Chuckles: she's still out. And," his eyes glanced from her to Sariel, pausing for dramatic effect only, "she's most likely a mage."

His words fell heavily on their ears.

Sariel rubbed his temples, muttering, "Of course she is."

"What do you mean most likely? Either she is or she isn't. We need more men to guard her," she said. "We've been travelling for a week – she could wake at any moment. And we need to create her phylactery. Ask Solas to prepare it, but we may need another mage with experience if he does not know how to make one."

"Chuckles thought you might say this," the dwarf carefully said as Loranil shifted uncomfortably in front of them. "And he said that more men are not necessary, and a phylactery is out of the question. He said 'We're not the Circle'. His words, not mine!" His hands went up again, stepping back from the Seeker's flaming eyes.

"He said she's most likely a mage because she doesn't seem entirely human, but she's not a demon either," Varric added from his safe distance. Sariel and Cassandra exchanged looks. Before the elf could ask further, Varric retreated, saying, "Well, not to him at least she's not a demon. So I'll take my leave, and let you two talk to him…" and with that, Varric was gone.

"Urgh," Cassandra snorted in disgust. "Spineless snake." They remembered they were not alone, and she glared at the young elf dwindled in height before them.

"Is there anything else?" She demanded.

"No! No," Loranil waved his hands defensively, a common gesture around Cassandra. "I only wanted to greet the Inquisitor and let you know the way is clear ahead. Olafin and the others have not seen nor heard of any of Corypheus' forces in this area after you were here last. I will not hold you up from your journey." He gestured a bow to Falka, then the Inquisitor.

"Dareth shiral, Herald."

Sariel returned the goodbye and they marched on past as the young elf stepped back, and the Inquisitor led his troops off the bridge without breaking their rhythm, their march completely uninterrupted as they caught up to the warriors' mounts. They walked their halla and horse for a time, the neighs of their caravans' mounts and soft chatter among their men muffled by the cool south-easterly breeze from the Frostbacks. They would make camp in a few hours, just before it was too dark for the humans to see to travel as far as possible in the light.

"We must take precaution with this mage after what she did at the Venatori Camp," Cassandra spoke.

"I know."

"We cannot trust her to be peaceful when she wakes. We still do not know what she is. And as much as Solas is confident, we must take precautions, measures."

"We have not created phylacteries for any mage, Cassandra."

"We have discussed it."

"But we have not done it. We don't even have one for Alexius." Sariel turned to see her head down, frowning.

"I know. But if we are adding more prisoners, more mage prisoners…we may need to do so. Consider it, Inquisitor."

As they neared the Inquisition base camp that sat at the edge of the Exalted Plains, the great ruins of ancient infrastructure cast long shadows over the landscape. They could see the scouts and soldiers of this camp had already prepared extra tents for the march that was approaching, and extra fires were burning steadily already. It was only a few months ago that Sariel and his party setup these camp spots, marked them out for the scouts to build and inhabit on their shifts.

Sariel said, "I was once your prisoner."

The woman sighed and looked at the elf. His eyes that were absolutely focussed on her were faintly glowing as the sky darkened, the whiteness of his hair also seeming to shimmer in the dying light.

"You have a point. But you may be wrong." She pulled her horse around and trotted ahead to the camp.

It was his turn to sigh. He dismounted early and walked his hart over past the intriguing old structures, stretching his legs from the travel and impact of horseback. The other horse mounts of the Inquisition were arranged under the fringing trees to the rock wall at the back of the camp, and he led Falka there, letting her drink and have a feed while loosely tying her reins with the others.

As he undid his boots by one of the crackling camp fires, a troop approached.

"Ser, if you have a moment?" The requisitions officer had an apprehensive look about her.

"What is it?" Sariel stood, following her to the table for their work. It was a join of tables now, uneven but put to use with the amount of requisitions and shipments of items having grown with the size of the Inquisition itself. Scrolls and parchment were carefully laid out systematically with another officer, a dwarf, checking their inventory. Next to him was a box emitting feeble lights of colours, and the occasional whirring noise. She headed for them.

"These are items we found at the Venatori camp from the Hissing Wastes. We have been inspecting them but…we don't know what they are." The woman carried the box to the table as the dwarf nimbly rolled the parchments to even scrolls, sorting them back into their categorised bags for their separate scouting parties who would return from patrols. She reached into the box and pulled out a rectangular object that fit perfectly into her hand, black on one side and white on the other. It emitted a red spot of light every few seconds in a pattern.

"The mage, Solas, has inspected these but says they are not magical. They kind of seem to be…dying. Most of these were lit when we first found them, but a lot went dark one day out from the Wastes. Only a few still retain their glow." She pointed out the couple that whirred at times, or flashed a bright white light then paled again.

"He said there should be no concern, but, I feel maybe we should not have it close to camp anymore? Maybe these are the prisoner's weapons? I know she is not awake but perhaps we can avoid anything from happening?" She spoke in questions, unsure of how to direct this information to the Inquisitor.

"Some of them show things," piped the dwarf, fishing through the box for a particular object. "Here, this one." He pushed something on it and the surface flashed – a boy's face, not yet a man appeared. His huge smile and what looked like a very small and thin white pipe held in the corner of his mouth with smoke protruding at the burning end. Numbers flashed with words on top of it, but then it was black again.

"Show me again," Sariel said, intrigued. They went through the few of the objects that worked – not all of them flashed with the depiction of a person. Some were just colours, swirling with more numbers and words none of them could read. Some showed animals – cats, a dog, then something similar to a nug but fluffier, fatter. They could keep pressing the buttons on the contraptions to keep making the depictions appear, but nothing further.

"It's like they're miniature paintings or drawings, except, they're so real," whispered the officer as Sariel tried another one, but it was failing to light up.

"And you couldn't make any more of these…things?" Sariel asked the dwarf.

He only shrugged. "Seemed like weird mage stuff to me. Nothing mechanical to it, save the button you press on them and the sides."

"So what do you want done with them?"

"Well," started the woman, fidgeting with putting them back in the box. "Sometimes…sometimes it feels like maybe there's something in them. I know this sounds stupid but. There's more to them and we've just been watching them but we don't know what they really are. Maybe they're really dangerous…explosive dangerous. Maybe they shouldn't be here." She was nearly whispering when she finished putting the last one in.

Pondering a moment, Sariel looked from the table to where the caravan was pulled up. He couldn't see Cassandra or Solas near it, but there was a soldier at each side and a rogue at each door, still and attentive.

"Alright. We separate carrying them from the march and also staying in the camp. Organise a group to keep an eye on them as well as keeping distance from the camp and where the prisoner stays for now. We don't want any opportunity to be presented to her."

The woman and the dwarf nodded, relief on both of their faces, thanking him.

As he left the softly lit table, carefully stepping around the nearby tents where those not on duty were resting, he heard raised voices behind the wagon he was approaching. The guards glanced shiftily at each other, some with their hands over their daggers and swords, but they did not leave their posts.

"Inquisitor, it's the Seeker!" One of the rogues quietly hissed at him as Sariel ran past.

In the flickering light of the camp fires and the light breeze across the plains, the mage and the warrior faced each other, fierce words being spat back and forth as Varric tried to placate his taller companions.

"Just because you believe it is right doesn't mean it is!" Solas was saying to her.

"We cannot take anymore risks! We have been lucky with Alexius and the rebel mages, but this? This is asking for trouble. Why can't you see this?"

"Because it is another way to force even more control over mages and anything you do not understand! Because as I said, she may not be human and taking her blood may not be the best way to find that out, and especially because it is you who is demanding this to happen: you who stood for the Chantry and the Circles and all levels of control and power! Where would this stop? Should we gather all the phylacteries of these mages too? Just so you can wave them around, threatening each one of them?" Solas' words flowed out, furious and powerful: the polite elf now bursting with the storm of a thousand injustices.

Sariel noticed the stirring onlookers – not one dared to interrupt the commotion. Their faces were a mosaic of confusion, alarm and on two wielding staffs – creases of anger and disgust.

"Chuckles, she isn't saying that!" Varric tried, one hand up to the elf, the other up to the Seeker, himself between them now.

"Enough!" Sariel commanded. "This stops now Solas and Cassandra."

He heard her teeth clench, a sheer tremble in her shoulders as she stepped back without taking her eyes off the mage. He also stood back, turning his angled frame away from her and cast his narrowed eyes to their leader.

No one spoke, and Sariel purposefully inspected each face surrounding them - the eyes of a few onlookers who could not hold his focus shrunk away from his gaze.

He pronounced, "You can all go. Now."

They dispersed quickly and without a mutter to their tents and shifts.

Sariel approached the red-faced arguers as Varric's shoulders drooped, sighing in relief. "Thank the maker, this has been ready to explode for a while now. Can you please tell the Seeker that you are not going to let that mage blow us up like she thinks is going to happen!"

"We don't know what she's capable of!" Cassandra retorted. "All we know is what he tells us, and he is saying that she may be a demon but we don't need to take precautions!" She pointed at Solas.

"We are not taking her blood until she wakes up. We should not try to do this without her permission in case she is a spirit – it will twist her very essence if we do so and thus, create a demon," said Solas. "You must see this – as it was the same with Cole – how we treat her may affect what she becomes."

"Alright, I've heard enough." Sariel held up his hand to stop them continuing. "We will not be taking any blood from the prisoner." He shot down Cassandra's retort with his narrowed eyes. "We will speak to her when she wakes and then we will decide from there if it is necessary. However," he looked at Solas, "we have not done this before. It may not be necessary for a long time yet. That is that. We are nearly back at Skyhold – she may not even wake up then. That is another possibility." He looked at each of his companions, their faces sombre and dramatic in the shifting light. The smell of cooking stews wafted through on the breeze, and Varric's stomach growled.

"I think it's time we rested. We're nearly home." Solas and Cassandra shot their last glances at each other, then the warrior marched off to the fires, her snort of disgust trailing on the wind. As the mage walked airily past Sariel he paused, saying, "It is strange that Cassandra, the Chantry, would oppose the use of blood magic yet want to use it so quickly when they cannot contain something. What world is this that this happens?"

"She does not want the Inquisition to fail," he quietly replied. "She is worried about losing everything again when it may be preventable."

Solas shook his head at the other elf. "She is not worried about losing everything. Or at least, it is not me that she is worried about." He disappeared back to the caravan.

It was dark enough for Sariel's eyes to be glowing brightly, and he was still trying to decrypt the mage's words when Varric coughed. He didn't try to make eye contact.

"So. Dinner?"


	5. Chapter 5 - The Fade

Asha awoke, wet and face down lying in what felt like a pool of water. She spat out the liquid, wiping it from her face, and pushed herself up scraping her knees and hands on the rough surface, holding her head in pain, rubbing her eyes. It was too bright to see. Squinting, she could make out bright rainbow flashes of opals and shimmers in the liquid, glistening in the white light. She splashed at it with one hand, mesmerised by the little she could see. Slowly, her eyes adjusted so they were both nearly open to see the glittering liquid flow out before her and she squinted up, and gasped.

Eternal whiteness surrounded her. The flowing rainbow river was never-ending as well, stretching in all directions. After a few more blinks as her eyes adjusted to the brightness, she stood slowly holding her sides that felt bruised and hot. Her whole body stung, as if sunburnt, and checking under her shirt she revealed bruised and battered skin, the purple spread of marks faintly showing and tender. Papercuts covered her arms and fingers, and she felt a few on her face and neck as well. She could even smell burnt hair, and splashed some of the water over her head and into the stinging slashes. Strangely, it was neither warm nor cool, an absurd sensation that made her cup the water and throw it in the air above – pearl droplets covered her skin and face, but it did nothing to entice her senses further. She did it a few more times to watch the glistening water disperse in the air.

"Hello?" She called, and was surprised by a slight echo to her voice. She tried a little louder.

Nothing.

She began walking with the flow of the water, still watching the ever-changing opalescent surface of it. She cupped some more while wandering, taking a sniff, but it did not smell. She splashed more over her face and wiped it off with her shirt. Then she checked her shirt again.

Asha wasn't wearing a shirt to work. She remembered picking up a set of old, yellowed novels her seniors would be reading, being careful walking down the steps to her classroom in her black dress as it was a windy, mournful day for the start of spring. She was careful not to miss a step in her wedge shoes, and had been holding the books close and could smell the old paper. So she hadn't been wearing shorts either, and she hadn't been barefoot. And as soon as she noticed this, she was wearing her black dress, her green shoes, her pearl bracelet appeared on her wrist. As she jumped from the realisation that something had happened, there was a loud splash behind her.

Whipping around and nearly falling as she was now wearing wedges in water, Asha watched it rain books. They splash all around and she instinctively covered her head and froze, as each text bombed the shallow stream causing pearl drops to rain explode in the air after each one. Each splash was deafening and unpredictable, and after a minute, it stopped.

Asha was breathing roughly, slowing lowering her hands and checking above her. She waited, in case anymore began again, and the books slowly wandered away from her along the light current. As one flowed past close by, she quickly grabbed it. 'The Chrysalids' by John Wyndham. The novel she borrowed for her class. The ones she was carrying when the bomb evacuation happened. As she remembered, the water blackened where she stood and she fell down into the hole and she swore as she tried to grab at anything to her sides, but there was nothing to grab. She fell. The blackness rushed up, fast and increasing in speed, and then, she stopped.

She was standing in a library, vast, the shelves so high she could not even see the highest one, the walls lined and filled with books and tomes, thick and old. A sweet and dusty odour permeated the place, and the immense windows of thick glass showed a green and dark sky, swirling and dancing slowly by. Like the storm that hit her before. Her heart still racing, still miraculously holding the novel, she stepped up to the nearest window and looked out.

Islands of rock formations floated in the green air. Some had structures on them, some moved higher or lower from her view. Some had bridges between them and some were even upside-down. She looked down to see that she was on one too. But it did not feel like they were floating in the air. In fact, looking out at the world before her made her light-headed, so she moved away from the window and turned to come face to face with something.

She yelled and swiped at it, jumping back against the wall behind her. The figure was not solid, not a person, but a mass of gold, sparkling flecks standing before her. It did not move, but it did speak.

"Greetings, human," it said, without a mouth or any qualities of a face existing on it. "Do not be afraid."

Asha stared at it, wide-eyed as the being floated in front of her.

She tried to say something, but no sound came out. She straightened up, still backed against the wall, and coughed, trying again.

"Who are you? What is this place?"

"I am Knowledge. This is one of the remains of the Vir Dirthara. I must thank you, human, for I have not known anything new for a long time, until now." In its vaporous hand, one of Asha's books appeared. "I must also warn you too that you are in danger."

"What from?"

"You are travelling through the Fade, and you will not survive when you leave here. I am being summoned against my will. And you are here because this summoning is occurring."

"What do you mean? This is real? But, what are you?" Asha said, confused. She looked from the sky to the ghostly figure before her.

"I am a spirit, as you call us. You will die when you reach the next world and I will change. I showed you here so we could discuss helping each other."

The sky outside the library brightened, an envious green of lightning cracked and stretched around the building, every window now glowing emerald and bright. The library shook, and books began to fall off the shelves, shaken from their resting spots.

"What's happening!" The creaking noises behind her made Asha race away from the window and it cracked, shards of glass floating around the spirit and her. In her alarm she reached out to grab the arm of the spirit as the floor shook vigorously, but she found nothing to hold. She faced its undetailed front, and could feel it staring back at her.

"What do we do!" She yelled at it over the deafening roar; the storm in her classroom was repeating again, she was going to experience a lot of pain. Again. The books began flying around, pages ripped and torn, faster and faster.

"We can save each other, if you will let me," it said clearly through the tornado of paper and lightning.

Asha yelled back, "Ok!"

She didn't know if it heard her, but when the roof ripped open, the shrieking wood loudly flying off the building, she was struck again, and her body buckled but this time she felt tiny pinpricks of electricity, as if it was numbed. She glimpsed the spirit nearing her, face-to-face. Then it walked into her, and it was gone.


	6. Chapter 6 - Tethered

Asha's eyes opened to see a shaking wooden roof, and being jostled in the hard bed she was in. She blinked, but she didn't need to blink so much, and her hand came up before her eyes, the loose white sleeve of her shirt falling down to show scratches and thin cuts freckled her skin. Her other hand tried to reach over to caress the lines, clean and straight, and she realised she was chained from wrist to wrist, and was also not controlling her body. She tried to speak, but she could not.

She began to panic, but she could not breathe any quicker, and she wanted to sit up, but her body would not respond. Her chest was tense and shivering underneath the thin blankets layered on top of her.

"Be calm, human."

Her mouth had said the words, but Asha didn't want to say that. She wanted to scream and get out of the covers. She realised she was in a carriage going over a rough road, and a particular bump made her half bounce from the hard surface.

"Be calm, and speak to me from inside, human," her voice said, her eyes blinking a few times. "You are not in danger. Your feelings are…hurting."

She couldn't breathe, she couldn't control her breaths. She couldn't control her mouth, her hands, her eyes as they meandered slowly around without turning her head.

 _What is going on! What is happening!_ She was screaming internally.

"Better. That is easier to understand," her voice spoke. "We survived, human. We have left the world of dreams and the Fade. We are in your world."

 _Where are we? Why are you talking from me?_

"I am in you. We are now bound. It was the only way for us to both survive. I am…sorry."

 _I can't use my body? But you can?_

"Yes."

 _How is this possible!_

"I was unsure of the probability of this working as it is not always…consistent. The binding between human and spirit."

"No, it isn't," spoke another voice.

Her head turned, slowly, painfully. Near the door of the carriage sat a man, bald and wearing what Asha would describe as a type of tribal clothing with his furs drawn around his shoulders, and brown woven pants. Across his lap sat a wooden staff, ornate at the end, crystal embedded in the dark wood. And the most noticeable characteristic were his ears, very long and very pointed. Indeed, most of his features were elongated, from his nose to his alert eyes and narrow brows.

"You are finally awake," he said, slowly getting up, stretching his arms and legs as he did so. "And you have indeed survived the summoning by the humans. To which human and spirit do I speak to?"

"I am Knowledge. Human, what is your name?"

Asha told the spirit who relayed it to the man. He laughed, eyes crinkling with the hearty chuckle. There was a tone of sincerity in his voice that Asha felt not many would have towards such an unlikely situation.

"My name is Solas. You possessed a human before asking their name? Some would think that is impolite."

"There was no other way, not in that time," replied Knowledge. Asha's body moved and slowly sat up awkwardly with her chains clanking, peering around. She shivered more without the blankets, but Knowledge did not move to pick them up around her. The carriage was small, just long enough to fit the bed and a trunk at the end. Another bed would have fit but for no room to stand in. The wall next to her and opposite had small square glass windows – through these she saw white landscape and outlines of trees as they travelled past.

"What is happening?"

The man was inspecting her face, his sharp features noticeably freckled now that he was closer.

"You are a prisoner of the Inquisition," he said slowly, his grey eyes returning to meet Asha's. "I will need to let the Inquisitor know that you are awake." The man scratched his chin, and bent beside the bed as the carriage hit another large bump, bracing himself. Then the vehicle was slowing down, and people were talking outside.

"Ah," said the man as he stood again and waited, watching the door.

The carriage stopped and the sound of whining horses and people walking around outside made Knowledge sit up more and swing her legs over the bed, showing her brown pants and bare feet. More movement and words outside, then the door opened outward.

A man appeared followed by a woman and as they scrutinised the closed space; they brought an icy breath of wind that bothered neither of them, for both were armoured and statuesque in their nature and appearance.

Asha recognised the paler man who also had long, pointy ears, like Solas. But he had white hair that was pulled back, and faint markings across his forehead and the bridge of his nose: whimsical branches, leaves and lines. She wondered if the two men were related. The woman had black hair and the eyes of a hawk, staring straight into her own. If Asha could, she would have moved back from her gaze, but it was broken when the other man told the woman to bring her out.

Solas offered a hand but Knowledge stood carefully by herself, a little wobbly in the knees. She tried the ground, testing, making thoughtful noises as she did. The warrior woman's hand did not leave her hilt nor her eyes leave Asha as she moved to allow her to leave the carriage, the man with the staff behind her.

Arrows were drawn and swords out of their hilts, flashing in the sun and the brightness of the snow. Asha had never seen or touched snow, but Knowledge walked through it, feeling every icy inch numbing her feet as soon as she left the carriage and stood before their leader. The Inquisitor's armour glistened in the draining sunlight, and Asha recalled the silver knight she had seen in a foggy memory – this was him. His long curved sword was so thick at the end it nearly touched the ground, similar in looks to the Chinese executioner's swords Asha had shown to her History class earlier in the year, its blue braided handle held by the Inquisitor still in its hilt. Beside him stood the warrior woman, with the rest of the Inquisition troops surrounding them.

Around them was leafless trees and whiteness, the road muddied with their travelling trails of prints and wagon wheels. The air was thin, and smoky clouds of breaths dispersed before each person's face as they awaited the Inquisitor's questioning.

Solas was standing beside Knowledge/Asha, leaning on his staff. The bald man nodded at her, nudging the spirit to speak to their leader.

Asha's voice cut through the wind, "Greetings, Inquisitor."

"Greetings. Who am I speaking to?"

"I am Knowledge, and this human is Asha." Instantly, arrows were drawn tighter, aimed directly at her body, inched closer.

"Demon! Be gone from her body!" Called the warrior woman as she unsheathed her sword, her shield already in hand.

Sariel stepped forward, his hand up to his army. No one withdrew their weapons, but they did not advance further as they waited, tense.

"Are you a demon?" he asked, eyes narrowing down at her.

"No. I am a spirit in the body of Asha. We are bound." Knowledge spoke steadily, not a hint of emotion in her voice.

The Inquisitor tilted his head at her, replying, "I don't know if I can trust someone who says they're a spirit in a human and not a demon. I would like to speak to Asha myself."

"You are talking to her. And you are talking to me. She can hear you."

"But can she talk to me? I would like to hear her own words." His eyes did not leave Knowledge's, and Asha noted their sky-blue colour and pale scars across his chin and side of his face. It was hard to tell how old he was, as with Solas.

"I can relay her thoughts. Due to the binding, she cannot control her body."

"Because you will not let her." Cassandra cut in, stepping beside Sariel. "Inquisitor, we cannot trust her words. This could be their plan all along."

Asha didn't know who 'they' were, but she could tell this would not end well for the spirit and her. What she did know was that her body was burning with a cold fire from the frost of the afternoon. The sun was starting to settle behind the trees, long shadows cast over the scene, and the temperature was dropping.

 _Knowledge, we're freezing_. Asha whispered the thought; it just seemed appropriate to not think at the same force when so many men and women had swords and arrows aimed at them.

"What should I do?" Knowledge replied aloud.

"You should untether yourself from her, and return to the Fade," said the warrior woman pointedly.

 _We need to get warm_ , Asha quickly thought. _You need a jumper, more layers to put on. And shoes._

"I need a jumper and shoes," Knowledge said to Sariel. He raised his brow at her statement, so she continued, "This body is freezing. Asha is freezing."

"She's got a point." A short man with red hair tied back appeared between two swordsmen. He had a glorious display of chest hair as well as a fine gold and red coat with black furs. He threw something at the Inquisitor who caught it with ease in one hand, his body unmoving. Cassandra held out her hand and took it from him, slowly approaching Knowledge/Asha and holding it out: a brown leather coat lined with gold buttons.

Knowledge went to take the coat and for a moment as Cassandra and her held onto the item, eye to eye, Cassandra held her gaze, unblinking and solemn. Then she handed over the coat. Knowledge held it up, waiting. Asha instructed her how to put it on, and the Inquisition watched as the spirit slowly put on the extra clothing, the human sighing internally in relief at the warmth of her shoulders though her feet numbed to an icy throb as the spirit took her time trying to button it up.

"Like this?" the spirit asked and Asha felt her lips curve into a smile when Knowledge followed her further instructions and her hands finally got the first button through, then the rest with ease.

The Inquisitor watched, transfixed, a brow raised still.

"If I may," Solas began, causing Cassandra to cast her sharp eyes to the bald man, suspicion drawing across her face. "Although I cannot determine if the spirit within Asha is malevolent or not, or if she is indeed human, I believe Cole would be of assistance with this matter."

"Absolutely not. We do not know what would happen to Cole if this demon is stronger than him, and bends him to its will," Cassandra said.

"Cole has faced demons in battle before," Solas retorted. "He could assist in communicating with Asha to prove if she really is human, and whether Knowledge is a spirit or a demon."

The Inquisitor cut in before the warrior and Solas could argue further. "Alright: Solas, stay with her as we get back to Skyhold," he commanded, and turned to his troops, directing them back to marching. "Cassandra, have a group with you to continue guard as we return. We move out. We're nearly home."

"I wouldn't call it 'home'," chuckled the short man.

"We are still taking her back?" Cassandra gasped.

"We always were. Now, I think, with a bit more urgency." The finality in his voice rocked his followers to motion – Asha was moved back into the wagon with Solas, the tall man casting a green spell over the transport before ducking in. Cassandra fell back behind the wagon with her men, and the Inquisitor could feel her hot temper heating the back of his neck. He sighed and led his march directly to the fortifications of Skyhold.

When they reached the open gates of their castle in the clouds, Sariel was met there by an unlikely sight – Cullen, his war advisor, with Madame de Fer in robes of glimmering silver – behind them, Templar men and women armoured and ready.

"Inquisitor, we can accompany the prisoner from here," said Cullen.

"There is no need," Solas replied, descending from the wagon as it pulled up beside them.

"Oh, but there is." Vivienne's voice was icily eloquent. "We are experienced in these matters Solas. You cannot trust everything it says. And we cannot just let this 'spirit' enter without caution." Her eyes never left Sariel's, and the Inquisitor sighed again.

"Solas, stay with her, Vivienne and Cullen will accompany you to the cells. We will talk to her there." Sariel tiredly turned to a rogue next to him, saying, "Inform Leliana that we're here. Though, she probably already knows."

"I do." The woman approached them, hood up still, brilliant red hair around her pale face. Sariel had not noticed her there, nor her people further on, stepping out from the sides of the passage, bows ready. "I will meet you down there and my men will also accompany," she smiled sweetly. "You should freshen up before we begin."

The Inquisitor laughed as the wagon and march continued through the passage into Skyhold. "Do I look that bad?"

"Not as bad as that time we went through the marshes. That was particularly bad," grinned the short man as he went by.


	7. Chapter 7 - Interrogation

"Asha, why are you laughing?" Knowledge asked. Her chains were now attached to the floor of the prison cell, and they knelt on the hard stone floor, the cold breeze of the mountains cutting through the barred openings that were windows, feeling less of their toes that still had no shoes on them in the depths of the Inquisition's stronghold that overlooked the expanse of white snow and rugged mountains surrounding Skyhold. The damp and mould from the stones beneath them tasted brackish in the air, their breaths appearing before their face.

There was no other way for Knowledge to communicate with the human woman the spirit possessed – it had to be aloud. Though Asha could speak to the spirit internally, it could not respond the same way.

"What is happening?" demanded Cassandra who was still pointing to the box of rectangular objects the requisition officers had separated in their travels from the wagon. "What is she saying?"

"She has not said anything yet," replied Knowledge, a faint look of scorn across her face.

 _Ah, sorry, sorry,_ giggled the human, _they're harmless. They're…communication devices._

"Urgh, could we not get Cole here, Solas?" said Cassandra after the spirit relayed the message, picking one up as far from her as possible as if it were a dirty sock. "It would be quicker than this."

"Yes, Cole would be excellent to have confirm if Knowledge is a demon or not," replied the elf with a hint of smugness. "However, no one could find him. Yet."

"How do they work?" Leiliana stepped forward and also picked one up, though the mage woman did not. Nor did Sariel, and Solas stood back from outside the cell, commenting and listening.

The spirit tried to explain to the Inquisitor's comrades how to unlock the device from Asha's instructions, but the Seeker was getting more and more frustrated.

"Let me show you," said Knowledge from Asha.

Cassandra stared her down, putting the device back in the box. "That is exactly what you want." She passed the box over to a guard, who took them away, but Leliana still had a white one in her hands. She looked at the possessed human, thoughts churning over in her head.

"Don't Leliana," Cassandra tried to say, but the spymaster already passed the object over, Sariel and Solas watching intently as this occurred. The Inquisitor's hand hovered over the hilt of his sword, Evanura, its blade clean and sharp.

Knowledge held the device a moment, then did as she was instructed from the human, swiping across the surface that lit up, then held the object up for them to see. "It's locked, but it is one of her student's…phones. The student puts in a code of numbers and they can call each other through these devices. They will not work here. They will die without recharging." As if on cue, the phone stopped emitting light, the picture of a pretty young girl sitting at a table disappearing with the light.

"She is laughing. The parents of these children will be very angry – they are worth a lot of money." The spirit then hesitated. She looked back down at the device, at its reflective screen. She pushed a button, holding it so the dimming light came back on. Tattoos and hollow eyes stared back at her. The black viney leaves framed each side of her face, stretching out to each other across her forehead, trying to meet; a crown of foliage. She had no pupils, no iris: just white. For a moment her face flashed a look of shock, so quick that the Inquisitor thought he had imagined it in between her steady gaze, but Solas stepped forward, having seen the expression as well. She gave the device back to Leliana.

Asha wanted to scream for the phone back, and she did internally, but her mouth wouldn't open, she couldn't get the phone back, she couldn't look at her face again. _Knowledge! Knowledge, where are my eyes!_

"Students?" said Cassandra, still eyeing her suspiciously. Knowledge did not reply.

"I have heard of Elven eluvians and crystals that can show such things, but how is this possible in such a small vessel?" said Vivienne, disdain across her face as she looked down at the possessed woman. Knowledge still did not say a word, still staring into space.

Then the spirit looked directly at Solas through the thick metal bars. "I did not know," she whispered.

"I wondered as much," said the elf, entering the wide cell. His eyes darted around the walls, clearly not enjoying the enclosure. "It appears to be a side effect of harbouring Knowledge in you. You can still see, yes?"

Knowledge nodded, a slight frown across her forehead. She reached up to feel her furrowing brows. "Odd," she said. "Yes, we can see. I do not know why her eyes are gone yet we still see."

"What are you talking about?" Sariel demanded.

Solas straightened up before him, saying evenly, "It appears Asha's appearance has changed now that Knowledge resides in her. It would seem that her lack of…eyes and also the tattoo?" He asked, and Knowledge tipped her head, "These are new. The spirit may have also granted her human body some further abilities we do not know yet."

The mage woman sighed loudly, stating, "Clearly, this one will need Templars to keep watch – we cannot trust the demon within her," she leaned on her staff, its sickle top adding to her sharp demeanour, her wondrous horned helm glittering next to it. "And we cannot take silly risks now that we are at the heart of the Inquisition, can we Sariel?"

Sariel ran his hand through his hair, deliberating. "Do you know anything of Corypheus' plans, Knowledge or Asha?"

"No," she replied.

"But you were summoned by him?"

"We were summoned by humans," corrected the spirit.

 _I was about to start class_ , thought Asha. She thought of all the books she'd borrowed, that Knowledge had apparently read, destroyed in the green flashes and explosion. What a waste.

"So you do not know why you were summoned?"

"No."

"You do not know the Venatori, the mages who work for Corypheus?"

"No."

"Are you a mage?"

Knowledge replied, "This human is not."

"It lies." Cassandra stepped forward, but Sariel put up a hand.

"You are not a mage?" He asked.

"I am most definitely not a mage," Knowledge said loudly as everyone started from her raised voice. "That is how she wanted me to say it." The woman's voice returned to its quiet level.

Sariel crossed his arms, not taking his eyes off her; Cassandra looked at Solas.

"You said she was a mage!"

"She has magical ability," he replied impatiently. "Which could be a new addition due to the binding with Knowledge – as with the tattoos and her eyes."

"You said you had students?" Leliana asked.

"Asha has students," Knowledge replied slowly, relaying her words. "She is a teacher at a school. Her town is called…no. Her land is called Ostralia. That land is not known here," Knowledge half-spoke to Cassandra, half-spoke to Asha.

"I haven't heard of a place like that before," Vivienne said. "Describe it."

As the spirit relayed the human's words, Leliana spread out a large parchment. The map was sketched in the darkest of inks, some words fading near the borders of the page. It was unlike any map Asha had ever seen.

"She is not from anywhere in Thedas," concluded Knowledge.

"Then where is she from?" said Cassandra, bewildered. The Elven mage had a grim expression.

"She already told you. She is from another place," he stated. "Somewhere that is not here."

Sariel turned to him. "You mean, from the Fade? Is this why the spirit is stuck in her?"

"I mean, from beyond the Fade. And, possibly, why Knowledge cannot untether from Asha."

"There's nothing else beyond! Only Thedas, the Fade and the Black City," argued Leliana.

"This human tells me the truth," Knowledge said. "Her imagination in the Fade was…enlightening. I had never thought such things before. She is truly from elsewhere to this land. She has seen things, and has things - " Knowledge indicated to where the phone box had been, "that you have never seen before. It is truly…wondrous."

"No, she must be from Antiva," Cassandra said in disbelief. "Antiva or Rivain. She looks Rivaini - her name is even Asha – as in after the Queen of Antiva," she said pointedly.

"Yes," piped Leliana, inspecting the woman closer. "The Queen Mother of Thedas. Interesting. She does look Rivaini." The red-headed woman pointed at the map – a coastal area to the north-east.

"Are you from here?"

 _What? No, no, crazy ladies,_ scoffed Asha. _This probably isn't even real. I hope I'm not asleep at my desk again._

"No. She is not," said Knowledge firmly.

"Enough of this," said Vivienne, throwing her hands up. "Get that thing in here – Cole – and we shall see whether this demon is speaking the truth from its human host. For how can we even believe that it is telling us what she is thinking?" She pointed the staff at Knowledge/Asha.

"Be warned, demon – playing tricks with us will not end well for you." And with that warning, Vivienne left the cell.

"Such flair," commented Leliana, gathering up the map. "Inquisitor, I will try and locate Cole but, he may be difficult to find if he is doing what he does best."

Sariel nodded at Leliana as she took her leave. As the Inquisitor and his advisors went to also leave the icy cells to the Templars - ones that had followed them from Haven to Skyhold, he inspected the possessed human one more time. Beside her were some sheets, a yellowed and deflated lump that was to be a pillow and beside it, a privy pot.

"Get her some shoes or at least some socks," he stated to the nearest Templar as they left the cell and stepped into the chill gust of wind that swept through the main passageway.

Dwarven engineering could only do so much for the ancient stronghold in rebuilding what was previously there. Without interfering with the structural integrity of the buildings, the pathways to the coldest, most severe cells were paved again, but great stone archway walls that used to reach all the way down to the running water below the prison were not. The guards enjoyed shifts where they could still see the sky, though at the lowest point of the castle – the prisoners did not enjoy this everyday torment of cold whistling winds, exposed to the elements and only moved when their health began to deteriorate.

Asha did not enjoy that night in the cell.

The socks and leather boots they received were well-worn, cracks letting cold in through the front, sneaking in through holes in the darning. The sheets were thin and very dusty. And it was cold.

Asha kept telling Knowledge what to do, but they could not keep their body warm, no matter sitting on their hands as best they could with chains, no matter curling into a ball against the slight breeze. Asha never remembered dozing off, but was suddenly awake as Knowledge sat up in the dark – the faintest of light from the guards' torches across the passage casting eerie shadows over her as a man stood at the cell door.

Then he was inside the cell.

"Hello my friend," said the young man with an outline of a large broad-brimmed hat on his head.

"Hello, Compassion," replied Knowledge.

"You made it here, but you're not alone. Shivering, hungry, wanting to breathe on my hands. Where am I? Why don't I wake up?" The young man, Compassion, said words that Asha was beginning to think to herself and not to Knowledge.

 _You hear me? You hear me!_ She could've cried.

"Of course I hear you, you're talking," he stated matter-of-factly. "I will help. Wait here." Then he was gone.

Asha laughed to Knowledge, _Wait here? Sure, no problem! Where's he gone?_

"Most likely, to the Inquisitor."

 _Oh. That doesn't sound good._

"Compassion will help us Asha."

 _Why?_

"Because he is also a spirit, like me."

 _Really? So he's possessing that boy?_

No. He's…different. He's here on his own." Knowledge deliberated each word, pulling the sheets around their legs and waist to tuck them up under their chin, just as Asha instructed earlier.

 _So how is he on his own, but you had to…possess me?_ She really didn't know it. She met it, chaos reigned, and she accepted its help – she probably would've anyway if she really knew what it was going to do. There didn't seem any other way out of the rift occurring, as the Inquisition described it.

"Because he wanted to be. Because that is his way of existing now, after meeting humans." Its words were final, and Asha questioned no more. She felt exhausted, but the never-ending cold did little to coach them to rest.

Sounds and movement down the passage - the light became brighter and Knowledge just had time to raise their hands to cover their white eyes when two Templars stepped up to the cell, roughly jangling their key to unlock it.

The Inquisitor appeared, and though she couldn't see every detail in the dark, she could see his eyes, and Asha knew then that she was not waking up from this dream as she was transfixed by their yellow glow. His white hair was quickly tied back, his flowing shirt and breeches a stark contrast to his armoured appearance.

He was bare-foot and he did not look pleased.

"Get her out."


	8. Chapter 8 - A Long Night

Skyhold was silent when the Inquisitor took the woman out of the dungeons. He had nearly thrown his papers into the candles when Cole suddenly existed before him in his quarters, telling him he should release his friends. Sariel's dagger that was raised at him as he had jumped lowered when the strange boy's words sunk in. No matter the questions Sariel had for him, Cole was already disappearing down the stairs, and the Inquisitor had no choice but to follow, his mood as icy as the winds that howled through the mountains at night.

Now he was using Josephine's office for the impromptu meeting of Knowledge and Cole standing before him, the face of the possessed human a serene smile as they enjoyed the warmth of the built fire, its crackling heat kissing their skin. A few of Sariel's comrades had heard the Inquisitor bring in the spirited human: Varric and Solas pausing their board game in the atrium after sensing their leader's mood when he stormed past into the office without a glance. The woman, the Templar soldiers and Cole were in tow. It was when Sera's head poked around the corner of the atrium with raised brows and a cheeky grin that they left their game to stop the elf, but she was too quick as she slipped in between the two confused Templars as they left the room, her laughter echoing through Skyhold's long hall.

"Oh Inky, no need to hide her from us!" They heard her say as Varric and Solas raced through to find her triumphantly announcing herself to the unamused Inquisitor.

"It's about time you've gotten – urgh!" She held no reaction back when Knowledge turned from the fire to her.

"Of course. Never normal here." Sera inched up to Knowledge, suspiciously gauging whether she could actually see her. Knowledge said nothing.

"Cole, excellent," said Solas eagerly, spotting him. "Have you spoken with Asha and Knowledge?"

"Yes, haven't you?"

"I have. Is Knowledge a spirit? Is Asha human? Is what they said true?"

Before explanations could be given, Sera rounded on the mage and the dwarf.

"What, hang on." She said with the air of someone who did not have time for long-winded explanations. "What is this. Who is this lady? Not your lover, Inky?"

"No," said Sariel, putting his head in his hands. "Why are you here, Sera? This does not concern you."

"Because this!" She reverently waved her hands up and down at Knowledge, then at the Inquisitor giving him a brazen look. "Because you walk around without your gear on, and I thought you were about to finally get some action – you know, real action as opposed to fighting and, ah! I'm dying, action! But no. This is something weird. This lady is something weird! If she isn't meant to be here, let's sort her out." The dagger in her hand sparkled.

"Alright enough. Enough," Sariel sighed. "Just, be quiet Sera. Cole, can you confirm for us: can we trust her?"

They waited for him to respond. He looked from Knowledge, to the Inquisitor, to the rest of the faces of his comrades; Sera crossed her arms and wrinkled her nose at him, her dagger peeking out underneath.

Knowledge was standing straight, hands clasped in front of her as she stepped back from the fire. She nodded, and Cole softly spoke in a lilting fashion.

"An ocean, a beach. It's so cold. It's the middle of summer. I'm really here? I'm really gone? This is really happening. How long? How do I get back? They hear. They hear!" Cole laughed, his voice morphing from his trance-like speak to enthusiasm, and Knowledge was also smiling, but it dropped quickly. She raised her hand to her lip, her brows furrowed in confusion.

"Well," muttered Varric, lost for words. No one else said anything, looking from Cole to Knowledge and back. Sera's eyes widened as it dawned on her what was happening, and she took a step back. Her fear to run was only just outweighed by her curiosity as to what would happen next.

Cole continued, his voice now different, full of expression with a change in his cadence.

"Ah, hello. Hello, ah, everyone. This is unexpected. I'm Asha. What Knowledge has been telling you – it's all the truth. I'm not from here. I…I don't know why I'm here. But I'm here."

Sariel sustained a shudder as Knowledge moved her head to face the Inquisitor, but words were conceived from Cole's mouth instead as he too, looked upon the elf at Josephine's desk. He leaned back, distancing himself from Cole's gaze.

"Asha, it's good to finally hear from you and not Knowledge," he replied.

Knowledge tilted her head at the Inquisitor, as Cole said, "It is good to be heard, and Knowledge has been very helpful in saying my words…She's never lied to you, Inquisitor." Cole stumbled on the word, as if it was the first time he'd ever said it. "I agreed to this. Well, I didn't know it would be exactly this. I was pulled from my…world. Like a storm and falling into a rabbit hole. I met Knowledge, and she – uh, I'm assuming 'she', correct me if I'm wrong – she was about to get pulled into the storm again too. We both were. She said we wouldn't have survived."

"No, you wouldn't have." Solas' face was grim. "No human has ever survived stepping through a Fade rift. Except the Inquisitor."

All eyes turned on Sariel; he was becoming accustomed to the amount of attention he always attracted.

"Ridiculous. Waste of time. Boring," said Cole. "No demons, no problem!"

"Is that what you think?" asked Sariel, surprised by the change of tone.

"No, that was what Sera thinks."

"That's right, you're all boring!" The door slammed as Sera stomped out. "And stay out of my head!" They heard from the other side of the door. She had had enough – magical possession and Fade rifts were not in her list of interests, and especially since the lack of antics that the Inquisitor was up to meant it was all Serious Stuff in Josephine's office. Her skills laid elsewhere.

"I can't help it that she's so loud," muttered Cole.

"This is confusing. Cole, only say what Asha is thinking, or saying: whichever it is. Don't say anything else from Sera. Well, she's gone I guess. Not her, not Varric or Solas; no one else but Asha."

"But what about what you're thinking?"

"Don't say that either."

"Alright," Cole said hesitantly, "I'll try."

He looked back at Knowledge, waiting for the Inquisitor.

Sariel questioned Knowledge/Asha whilst watching her but listening to Cole, leaning forward on his elbows as his head rested on his interlocked fingers. The dark rings under his eyes with emphasised by the candlelight, and Varric and Solas settled into the cushiony chairs, a groan of relief from the dwarf as he settled in. Without Sera, there was no need to be prepared for any of her quips or outbursts at a moment's notice.

"No magic?"

"Nope. Well, not widely believed to be real. Some people say they have experienced things. It's possible but, not like you are describing here."

"And here you are, a spirit bound to your body. This could have been a lot worse if you had come across a different spirit. Asha and Knowledge will need training," Solas said, nodding. "Knowledge would be very helpful in her transition here as well. However, there is the case of accidental magic use. Inquisitor, where will she stay?"

Sariel hadn't expected the question. "Obviously not back in the cells," he slowly said, and relief spread across Knowledge/Asha's face. "The Mage Tower would be fitting. Also, if Asha is to stay, there is also the concern of Knowledge being attached to her. Is there a way we can sever this bond – separate them?"

"At this moment, no. I have heard of banishing demons and removing the possession however, it does not end well for the host."

"I too, do not know a way to sever our bond without also removing all life from Asha in the process," Knowledge said softly.

"Oh dear." The young man shuddered, his hat tipping to the side. "Asha doesn't like the sound of that. She doesn't like to lose control."

"Well, I guess that's that then. She's stuck. Better get used to…not being in control."

Knowledge stared at the dwarf, her face unreadable as Cole swore under his breath. Then he put his hand over his mouth. "I don't like saying that word. Sorry Cole, sorry."

Sariel shook his head. It was too late to deal with the situation further. "Asha – you'll stay under Templar watch in the Mage Tower. Just in case there is any tension with the mages regarding this," the Inquisitor said, looking straight at Solas who had baulked at his words.

"Perhaps we should have created her phylactery," the elf said, an edge to his words.

"No Solas, I am not trying to do that but we must be cautious. Untrained mage, add possession; potential for disaster, intentional or not," Sariel sniped back.

"Are you really sure about that?" Varric spoke up. "That could be…unsettling for our conscripted guests."

"Are you offering space in your quarters?"

"Oh, funny! No. I just meant, she may not be welcomed with open arms. Especially with swords and shields around."

"They'll be told what she is, and I will discuss with Fiona about unacceptable treatment. Actually, Fiona may be the best person to train with…or to offer someone else."

"You have a mage right here," Varric stuck his thumb out at Solas. "The first and the best of your Inquisition!"

The elf mage said nothing.

"Are you sure I have magic?" Cole asked, while Knowledge rubbed her hands together, half-turned back to the fire. "Could it be that it's just Knowledge, because she's a spirit? That it seems I have magic, but it's just her?"

"That is possible," Solas said quietly. "But it is also possible that you have always been sensitive to magic, yet the connection in your world to the Fade is quite severed. It sounds like a nightmare," he trailed off.

"To you it does. Sounds like a dream, if I had any." Varric yawned and pushed out of the chair, stretching his neck as he stood up. "But I think we can say, if the Kid is sure, then she can stay…wherever she's going to stay. Chuckles will teach her Fade and magic stuff and we can deal with the rest later today. I'm off to bed."

As the dwarf stepped out of the office, Solas stood too.

"Perhaps we should discuss training and such at another time this day. It is up to you who you think should try to train her."

"Try? You seemed like you had experience in teaching others, Solas," the Inquisitor said, also stretching his legs as he got out of Josephine's overbearing seat. "Also, you may be the only one with the patience. I don't see Vivienne jumping at this opportunity." He looked at the possessed human, thinking. "This is completely outside of my field. I will take it to the War Table. Or maybe not. Hmm."

"Magic training," whispered Cole, following them out of the room, Knowledge walking nearest Solas. As Sariel rubbed his forehead and discussed instructions with the Templars waiting outside still, Cole turned to Knowledge.

"That was fun," he said.

"Likewise," replied Knowledge a little haughtily, and Cole laughed. "You're pretty sarcastic!"

Solas breathed a laugh at this incredulous exchange, while the Inquisitor was quite ready for a nightcap and his sheets.

"I can't tell who's talking now," Knowledge and Asha heard him mutter as they were escorted away from the elves and the strange boy, up long and cold steps onto ramparts that opened into the icy early morning air.

And Asha finally believed she was truly elsewhere; not from meeting a dwarf, elves and Templars, but from the night sky with its two luminous moons. They lit the mountain like stages, the echoing quiet mesmerising, but the ramparts were bitter cold in the open night air.

Knowledge tried to stop for Asha to drink in the view, but the Templars weren't having it. They marched her up and up – at least the upward climb was warming their body as they climbed grittier steeper steps, drove through wooden doors and then rooms – a collection of glass and measuring equipment with chalkboards of indecipherable writings in one, another, a gauntly lit library. There were those in the tower still awake in this section, their intent reading by the dying embers of their candles interrupted as the possessed human was swiftly paraded through – their faces of shock and exasperation not making Asha feel any more comfortable about this new arrangement, but then anything was better than the dungeon below Skyhold.

Knowledge and Asha were shown into a store cupboard one last level up – or so it seemed, until the Templars lit a candle on the wall, showing a bed made for a dwarf, a few more sheets than the cells, and no window opening. As soon as she was in the minute space, the door was shut and Asha heard one set of armour disappear, their metal chinking dimming as they left.

 _One cell to another_ , she commented as Knowledge settled them in.

Knowledge said nothing back to the human, but laid down and closed their eyes.

Stately knocking at the door made Knowledge jerk awake and Asha curse Templars.

Faint light seeped in under the doorframe, and voices were heard faintly beyond the entrance. Someone knocked again, and then an exasperated voice with an air of importance said, "Oh do be a dear and get up! We have much to discuss."


	9. Chapter 9 - Mentor

Mages seemed to be extravagant people. The elven woman's flowing robes of deep burgundy and green floated around her as she approached the group of magically imbued people and the Inquisitor gathered in the pagola of the flourishing gardens. Among them were Lady Vivienne, who had summoned Knowledge/Asha from the Mage Tower with a disapproving attitude of which Asha was still wary as to why it was her that brought them; the dark-haired Dorian in a fitted white tunic that shimmered softly in the morning light; and Knowledge/Asha themselves were made to wear a pale blue fitted dress robe that 'Madame de Fer' – as the Templars addressed her – had brought. Solas however did not fit the dress code of the gathering dressed very similarly to what he travelled in from the Wastes. Even the Inquisitor wore regal white that slimly outlined his broad height and shoulders, and Asha was thankful Knowledge could focus on the task at hand as she would have been highly distracted inspecting the people around her.

"Fiona, thank you for coming," greeted Sariel. They were standing around a raised brazier that was lit with veilfire – flames of green that were igniting but not burning in the holder.

"Extinguish it," Solas said to Knowledge.

With a wave of Asha's hand, the spirals of green were dissipated instantly by Knowledge, no traces of scorch nor the remains of the mystical blaze.

"Again."

The torch relit, the ignition seemingly quicker.

"I can see you have already started," Fiona said with a strong accent to her words, very like Vivienne's.

"Any mage can light veilfire, we want to see what you can truly do," Madame de Fer said.

"We also want to keep the gardens intact," added Dorian. "So, be careful of the pots – Inquisitor's just planted those."

"Was I correct in hearing this woman is possessed? Willingly?" Fiona asked as Solas instructed Knowledge on the next test.

"Yes. But the spirit appears to be benevolent. So far," replied Sariel.

Holding out his hand, Solas conjured veilfire in his hand and Knowledge copied his actions. For a moment wisps of green played within his hands, but they escaped her palm and withered, disappearing. Next, Solas produced real flames in his hand – burning and warm, but floating above his palm, but Knowledge could produce nothing.

The elf held his hand up, showing his arm freeze from his elbow to his long fingertips. Though Knowledge could mimic his movements, no ice produced either.

It seemed no other elemental connections could be made, nor any type of aggressive projection as Vivienne displayed what Asha would describe as a type of spirited Vorpal sword, as well as creating a few holes in the ground beyond them with pulses of electricity and light – the purple flashes making her exclaim internally.

"Knowledge, would you try healing this." Fiona stepped forward, a small knife in hand and Sariel only had time to say, "Wait!" before the elven woman made a decisive and diminutive cut on her own arm.

"What did you think I was going to do?" laughed Fiona as Knowledge hesitantly put her hand above the cut, looking at Solas for confirmation. He nodded, and the possessed human concentrated, and energy poured into the cut. It mostly scabbed over and the fresh blood was gone, but it was not completely healed.

"So you're naturally a healer," Vivienne remarked disappointedly. "How nice."

Well in that case, I would be the worst choice of trainer as the dead are my specialty," said Dorian. "Not that I wouldn't love a lackey."

"Inquisitor, it depends on what your plans are for her," said Vivienne, turning to the tall elf, placing a hand on hip. "What is she going to do while she's with us?"

"Asha offers her services to you, Inquisitor," Knowledge said. "And I offer mine. My learnings can benefit the Inquisition in regards to knowledge and information, if I have learnt it before."

"You mention this now," said Sariel, crossing his arms. "What do you know that would be beneficial?"

"I am from one of the many remains of Vir Dirthara. My knowledge lies in history and retellings, but unfortunately all further information was fractured from me. When Asha arrived in the Fade, I was…happy. She brought new knowledge from her world. I wish to learn and have more. I would also assist in teaching this human the ways and writings."

"Vir Dirthara?" queried Dorian, but the elven mages exchanged glances.

"It is Elven for 'way of knowledge', or similar," said Fiona. "I have heard of it as the ancient knowledge house of Elvhenan, a vast library but, not much more than that."

"Solas?" asked the Inquisitor.

"The remains of the Vir Dirthara, now a shattered library, a fraction of the amount of knowledge held in its broken pieces. It was a magnificent merge of Fade and reality," he breathed, looking at Knowledge/Asha was renewed interest. "I did not know that was where you were from."

Knowledge nodded in reply, and Dorian stated, "Then it's settled! Asha – Knowledge? Both of you should study with Solas, you poor things. You love Elven history - Knowledge knows the history! It's perfect," he smiled. "Also, maybe you could you teach him as well. About clothing. As in, something more put together. And the meaning of wearing colour."

The smirk on the mage's face made Asha laugh internally, and Knowledge produced a smile, then a frown. She rubbed her cheeks as the Inquisitor rolled his eyes at Dorian and the mages debated the topic of training further.

"Surely someone that has been trained properly should ensure her training," said Vivienne, but Solas only smiled, saying nothing in retaliation.

"It would be wise to continue Templar watch, Inquisitor, but it seems your hedge mage has also held his own with you on your journeys," remarked Fiona as she inspected Knowledge/Asha. "These marks are so like some Vallaslin." Without touching her skin, Fiona curiously traced the tattoos on Knowledge/Asha's face.

"Then it's settled; Asha will train with Solas. Solas, should you require anything let us know. In the meantime – you agree to this? You will help the Inquisition, and we will endeavour to help you along the way of our main goal." Sariel directed at Knowledge/Asha, his eyes piercing theirs.

"Yes."

"Good." Turning to Fiona he stated, "She will be housed in the Mage Tower and may also require training with yourself or the other mages. Will this be a problem?"

"I will ensure that it won't be," Fiona replied. "Though, some mages may not really understand. I will work on it."

"Do stop by to discuss how your training is faring," Vivienne said sweetly as she waved farewell, taking her leave with Dorian.

"Yes, good luck," the man replied calling over his back without turning as they left the pagola. "Do visit, when you're not picking herbs with Solas."

"I believe you already have a room in the Tower?" Fiona asked.

"Yes, but it is…short."

"Ah, we will consider it. Walk with me," Fiona said, leading the way out of the green space. "I would like to know more about you. And let our Inquisitor speak to your new mentor."

Knowledge looked back; Solas and Sariel watched them leave, speaking quietly to each other, serious expressions on their faces that disappeared as they entered the castle into the main hall, warm from the early fires.

The elven woman showed her through the ramparts and the Tower – this time in the daylight, lit with warmth and smiles and nods as the mages greeted their leader and the newcomer, though with some hesitation to the latter. The mage spoke to a few men and women in the different rooms they walked through – a study area, a library, a laboratory of sorts as they ventured up all the stairs – but this time they went further than the floor with the tiny room. As they neared the highest point of the tower, the walls grew closer, hugging them as they climbed a short ladder to the top.

They stood up there for a time, looking over the glistening landscape of mountain and frozen lake below, the glimmer of fresh snow sparkling like diamonds below as the edges melted in the sun. The wind was not as cruel this day as it was the night before – or perhaps it was because it was night and an unknown place that the cold was as painful for their skin.

"This place is a sanction for my people," Fiona said, breaking the silence. "If you are to stay here, under the Inquisition's protection as well as our protection, you will also be serving our cause."

"Cause?"

"The cause of all mages everywhere in Thedas. We are not truly free here, as you may have heard." She squinted at a black dot on the horizon – a bird coming closer to the castle.

"We are feared beings, as you are as well. You are both a mage and a spirit – the two most despised fears from those without magic. Asha, you must understand that in this world what we are is not accepted everywhere."

"She understands," Knowledge said, relaying Asha's words. "She has experienced such things, not magic-related of course. Discrimination. She says she will help me be careful with social situations."

"You will need to learn quickly as well," Fiona said in an unconvinced tone. "But, there is a bigger threat uniting most of us at this moment. You do not know of this Corypheus?"

"Only what others have spoken of before us."

Still not looking convinced, Fiona looked back out to the view before them. Their shadows grew shorter in the midday sunlight.

"You will probably experience some of these tensions even here in the Tower, as well as throughout Skyhold. I will do what I can to extinguish it with my people, but I hope the Inquisitor has discussed this with his Templar commander and soldiers."

 _This is weird_ , Asha thought. _Who is this woman really?_

Fiona turned to them, her dark hair slightly wafting in the gentle breeze. "Are you really as benevolent as they say you are?"

"Yes," Knowledge replied, as emotionless as ever. The elf nodded slowly, then looked back out to the sky. They watched as black dot neared, the wings and beak more distinct the closer it got: a crow.

"Let's hope this is good news," Fiona commented as the crow circled and flew into the top of the main hall, the sounds of caws echoing across.

"The Collective? Who are they?" Sariel asked his advisors as they stood around the war table as Sariel read the message recently received by Leliana.

"We are not sure, but, it's not the strangest promise we've received yet," Josephine said enthusiastically. "'A noble spirit fallen in battle against rage, returned to life by the boundless urge to run and serve a worthy cause'. Sounds like it may be useful for proliferating our stance in Orlais as well, what with the Empress' Ball upon us in a month."

"This sounds like something a necromancer has created. Would this send the right message about the Inquisition?" The commander questioned. He ran his hand over his neck, tweaking muscles. "Would it be too impolite to decline though?"

"We already have a Tevene necromancer, as well as Qunari and everything else that everyone disapproves of," Sariel stated. "My question is, can we trust it's nothing malicious?"

"We can make sure nothing interferes with its arrival, as well as its integrity. And surely it would be in our interests to show your reach is definitely beyond this realm if it is indeed, something ghoulish," the spymaster said with a smile.

Sariel agreed, allowing Leliana to organise the offer of assistance from the mysterious group of mages – he wanted to know more about this Collective and why they couldn't offer themselves as assistance instead of an undead gift.

"What's next?"

"Well, the matter of the new…lady, Inquisitor. Cassandra has requested this be handled with more security." Josephine always delicate with her words, but Sariel could sense there was more to this than she was saying.

"I've discussed the matter with Fiona and my team," he replied. "The matter is dealt with for now. Solas will be her mentor and she is under Templar watch. Understandably, it would be in our interest to consider solving the issue of spirit's attachment but, it does not seem to be a dire case as we thought it was from yesterday. So far."

Josephine nodded, listening, and deliberating her next words to him, as Cullen spoke.

"Surely we're not just going to let it roam free of Skyhold? It's bad enough we can't even locate Cole when he's needed."

"She was also brought here as part of the Venatori activity in the Hissing Wastes as well. There are concerns whether it would be wise for anyone associated to the Venatori to be in Skyhold," Josephine carefully said. Her quill hovered over her notes, awaiting the Inquisitor's decision.

"I trust that Cole has spoken to the spirit as he has always been honest and correct with these things, even when it's really confusing. We will watch and Solas is also providing a daily report. Which also means, if I need Solas to come with me – she comes too. So, she is well attended to in regards to security." Sariel emphasised the finality to his tone.

As his advisors nodded and packed away their notes, their council over for the day and movements mapped out for the next few months. Sariel sighed – a common gesture of his in Skyhold, and added, "And I will speak to Cassandra regarding this."

His advisors breathed a sigh of relief and Josephine mouthed a thank you at him as they left the room, Sariel craned his neck side to side. He was tempting his fate a little too often lately.

Thank you for reading – new readers and followers. I will endeavour to also look into your works as well to reciprocate a review! Please feel free to critique and let me know if there are incorrect details in backstory especially – I am relying a lot on game play and online research, and Inquisition was the first DA I have played.

Kind regards,

qwertykay


	10. Chapter 10 - Training

"Is this necessary Asha?"

 _Yes._

"Is this really necessary?"

 _Enough, keep going!_

They jogged up the many stairs to the ramparts, leaving a trail of clouds as they puffed, reaching the top and travelling along the upper circuit of Skyhold. The sun was only just beginning to crane its neck over the horizon, and Asha had been physically training Knowledge for the past week, not without objections though. She had unsurprisingly found that motivating a spirit to do physical exercise was like pulling teeth. Asha had a strict routine, and landing in Thedas in the heart of winter without control over her own body did not mean she would let the spirit keep to the libraries and warm halls and let her hard work go to waste. She despised the cold, at its ability to make her toes and fingers so numb she would fumble over her hot cups of coffee back when she had access to caffeine, and though Knowledge did not seem as affected by the climate, the spirit was most definitely intrigued, and then bothered about physical exertion. Asha was constantly reminding the spirit to add extra layers on their apprentice robes before they left the Tower each day, and was keen to start running again as soon as possible to increase her level of warmth as well as continue her marathon work.

It took two weeks before the guards decided to venture off in the early morning, and Knowledge/Asha would attend their training with Solas after every breakfast – sometimes in his study, other times to the gates of Skyhold where they would trek across the ominously high bridge to an area of rock and dirt in sight of the castle. It was far enough to train privately without damaging valuables or the Inquisitor's garden, but close enough to return if anything should occur.

Asha had been urging Knowledge to train her body within a week of being in Skyhold; between their magic training, escorted library visits and meals, they were 'requested' to remain in their room. The human did not enjoy remaining in her room. Squats were achievable in their trivial chamber, as were stretches of sorts. But not push ups. The ramparts were an excellent open-air gym – freezing, but provided the space and edgings for more strength workouts. However, it was hard to utilise any open space with the stigma surrounding Knowledge and Asha since their arrival at the castle, not to mention their constant guard attention. Now, being trusted to attend their sessions with their elven instructor, they took advantage of this early morning freedom. Or rather, Asha did, for the spirit was quite content to not jog every morning.

As they reached the next tower and turned around to repeat the route they had created between the Mage Tower, down to the Blacksmith's building and up again to the next empty tower, Knowledge turned to watch the sunrise in full, slowing only a little.

 _See, you're hardly huffing now_ , Asha encouraged. _We should do an extra lap so you do._

"No – thank you," Knowledge replied instantly, staggering her steps to slow down near the low battlements, already starting their leg stretches. Then the spirit paused halfway through, their senses alert and their leg in their brown breeches still raised to hip height on the wall's edge. She turned their head to see Commander Cullen in his black fur cloak.

"Are you meant to be here?" He asked, a note of suspicion in his tone.

Knowledge slowly put their leg down, feeling awkward at being caught in such a pose. She straightened their shirts and replied, "We are training."

"Really? I've never seen a mage running around Skyhold before, let alone anywhere else," he said without the trace of a smile.

Knowledge tucked their hair in. "Did no mage ever physically train in the circles you attended?"

"Not really," he said, walking a little closer. "Are your guards aware you are training out here?"

"There are no guards in the morning," Knowledge replied, and Asha wanted to slap herself. Their hand twitched and Knowledge looked at it, startled.

"I was unaware of that," Cullen replied quietly. For a few moments as the commander contemplated this information, the sun shone over the battlements, lighting his blonde hair into a brilliant glow. As he said nothing, Knowledge crossed their arms tucking them tightly into their elbows, and Asha enjoyed inspecting his face in detail – though unshaven and scarred over the years, his resigned eyes were easy to read like an open book.

"Carry on then," he finally said, and turned, hastily striding towards the southern-most tower that Asha ensured Knowledge avoided in their cardio routine. Apparently, they weren't the only thing on his mind, and Knowledge quickly returned to the warmth of the Tower in the opposite direction.

 _That was lucky_ , Asha said as Knowledge washed them quickly with the tiniest amount of water so the human didn't complain about the cold further, speedily pulling their clothes on with their plain robes over the top. It was lucky indeed that they had hurried, for when they entered the empty study on their level intent on resuming their lesson on learning how to read Thedosian writing before it was mealtime, they did not expect their mentor to be waiting there flicking through their books they had left on the smooth table.

"Good morning," he said without looking up, finishing the line from the tome before carefully closing 'Tales of the Destruction of Thedas'. "We are summoned to the War Table."

"Why?" asked Knowledge grabbing their extra cloak as she followed the elf downstairs. His steps were long and quick, and she matched easily, Asha enjoying the warmth of the sun between the towers as they crossed the ramparts to the tower Cullen had disappeared into. It connected to the upper parts of Skyhold's main hall.

"The Inquisitor's command can sometimes be unknown, though I suspect it is regarding our next move with Corypheus. Or else something regarding yourself."

They passed through the open doorway, breezing through a well-lit office with open windows, a cool breeze filing through flicking up corners of pages on the large desk. The Commander was nowhere to be seen. Entering the library from the sunlit battlements, theirs eyes took their time to adjust to the interior lit by candles. The pair headed towards the next set of stairs and a man sat up from a cushioned seat as they passed.

"Solas! I've never seen you up so early. Good morning ah, Knowledge. And Asha," Dorian said cheerfully as he stumbled with addressing the possessed human.

"Good morning," Knowledge replied, but did not stop following the elf.

"Another time, Dorian." Solas did not even look at the mage as he continued downstairs, and he grandly opened the doors of the War Room down a hall that they had never been through before. The mages entered.

It was as impressive a table as she had envisioned, a table for a giant with a map to match it. Asha eyed the mammoth cartography that covered the extensive surface, matching up areas she had been learning of in tomes and overheard conversations of towns and settlements. Leaning over it in discussion that didn't break upon their entry were Cassandra and Sariel, only looking at them upon arrival and finishing their discussion. Surprisingly, Cullen was in the room too, his coat of furs still on and cheeks coloured from his morning stride. He only nodded at them without mention of their morning's interaction, and Leliana was listening to the discussion intensely. Varric stood closest to the door side of the table, without his usual roguish grin and Vivienne majestically turned to swirl a hand of welcome at them.

Approaching the War Table, Knowledge and Asha listened as the advisors pored over a parchment in front of them, the Inquisitor moving little markers along the map over an area near the Storm Coast.

"You cannot travel to Crestwood and attend the Empress' Ball within fourteen days," Cassandra was saying.

"No I cannot, but I can find this Warden and possibly stop Corypheus without even needing to attend this Ball," Sariel replied, scoffing at the last word. He looked at Cullen, who nodded support.

"It would be wise to find this Warden as soon as possible. He may not want to deal with ordinary Inquisitor scouts if he is in hiding from the others." He stepped up to the table, pointing from Skyhold. "We could be there in six days, maybe less if we left now."

"And the Empress would be dead before you returned," Vivienne maintained. "Ensuring the stability of Orlais and Ferelden is not a waste of time, Inquisitor," she said delicately, her hand resting on the edge of the table. "We cannot afford to refuse this invitation, especially as Empress Celene and her - advisor - have already heard of our new arrival."

All eyes turned to Knowledge and Asha but the intensity of their gaze didn't weigh on them for long. The doors opened again, and a welcome distraction entered, announcing, "Sorry I'm late boss."

The Iron Bull stepped into the War Room and Knowledge gasped, though not of her own accord. Asha had read about Qunari, seen the sketches in the tomes and heard there was one in the Inquisitor's ranks – she was not prepared for the vastness of his height and breadth of his shoulders that went for miles, the stately curve of his horns from his head. Nor was she prepared for his cavernous voice, a richness to his manner, and a sharp eye, only one as the other was covered by a black patch. For a moment Asha wondered how this man was not the Inquisitor, who in comparison was slight in build and a head shorter to the walking mass of brawn. Bull's eye turned directly to Knowledge/Asha's.

"Ah, I've heard of you. The Chargers are rounded and ready." He turned to Sariel who gave him a quizzical look, but waited for the giant to explain.

"Surely the Chargers aren't coming to the Winter Palace?" Vivienne disputed, turning to the larger man. "We will have ample men and women of the Inquisition plus a few more," she commented, looking at Solas' pupil.

"Oh no, no," Bull shook his hands at her. "They're going to Crestwood. Find your Warden you're looking for. Bring him in. That sort of thing." Leliana raised her brows at him and Cullen furrowed his, mapping out the logistics on the table with crossed arms.

"How did you – never mind," Cassandra huffed at the grinning Qunari. "That is not actually a bad idea. Inquisitor?"

Sariel continued to look from Bull to the map, then his shoulders shook with a silent laugh, throwing his hands up. "Could you do all the War Table planning for me, Bull?"

"I don't think you'd appreciate the choices I'd make for the Inquisition," he replied slyly.

"We do already have scouts located outside of Crestwood – it would certainly save you the effort and attend Celene's Ball. Which is imperative that we do." It wasn't clear whether Sariel had rolled his eyes at Leliana's words, or simply blinked, but by Solas' quiet breath of a laugh, Asha was sure it was the former.

"Fine. Bull, thank you for ruining my plans with a better one. Since the matter of this Warden ally is settled, we have one more to discuss. Solas, here," Sariel handed the parchment to the other elf who skimmed it in breath and handed it to Knowledge.

The spirit read it aloud for Asha's sake, "'There are stories of a being in your company – of human and spirit. I would like to meet them as well as yourself, Inquisitor. Morrigan.' Who is Morrigan?"

"She is the Empress', consultant of sorts regarding all things magical," Leliana explained. "I would say she would be an ally if I wasn't so unsure of her…personal motivations. Also, it is strange she has heard of Asha but does not refer to Cole."

"Cole can make people forget him," Cullen said pointedly.

"She is most definitely not to be trusted; a licentious and intolerable being," Vivienne hissed, and looked down at Knowledge and Asha. "If she is so interested in you, we must make sure you are prepared for her for whatever interest she has; it will not be a passing one. How goes your training? I trust Solas has been sufficient in teaching you to defend yourself against the likes of her."

"Solas has already discussed her progress, which is another reason why I've asked you here." Sariel looked from Vivienne to The Iron Bull and then Cassandra. "We are all going to Halamshiral, however, Cassandra, Solas and Varric; I will have you on-hand if we are to sort out any…conflict. I will also have you assist Solas with further training as Asha and Knowledge will be with us. Vivienne and Bull – I would appreciate your readings into the court while we are there as well as to assist further with this as well." He indicated to the possessed human and mixed reactions displayed across their faces. Varric who had been silent the whole time lightened from his mood, however Cassandra and Vivienne were less than impressed. It was Bull who turned to Knowledge/Asha – who though only just shy of Solas' height felt like a dwarf to him – and the crane of his neck and intensity of his mass made their chest tighten.

"How do you feel about being thrown at a bunch of Red Templars, blazing fire everywhere?"

"Asha doesn't like being picked up by anyone," Knowledge replied curtly up at him.

"We can work on that."

"Also, veilfire doesn't count in a fight," warned Vivienne. "I do hope you have begun offensive training."

The glance between Sariel and Vivienne confirmed her suspicions, and she sighed. She propped herself straighter, holding her illustrious staff before her. "Very well, we must work very hard. And it will not all be pleasant. Now the next real question is: do you have a dress, dear?"

-0-

X

Training with other people was unlike any training with Solas they had undertaken. For one, Solas took the time to explain how and why a casting would work. At times Asha felt she was only managing to grasp the explanations of the Fade and absorbing and dispersing its energy in measured amounts, while other times it made complete sense before the practical application. The spirit and Solas sometimes spoke in Elven to each other, in which the translations were around stance exactness and multitasking exerting and drawing energy simultaneously. Asha enjoyed these moments the most; the languid expression as each word flowed together, a harmony of sounds without a harsh syllable, especially hearing it from her own mouth. She was never exceptional at picking up other languages, even only knowing some of her own indigenous words – growing up without hearing it meant a lifetime of answering questions bordering on insolence about why she couldn't speak in full Mir. Sometimes she was unsure if the headaches they were having were from the lack of caffeine her body was receiving, the amount of new information and language she was trying to learn, or both. During these sessions, it was obviously quite different to exert energy in the Fade as opposed to reality, as Knowledge would comment on how pitiful their castings were in comparison.

Knowledge may have had reservations about running, but the spirit was glad for it when it came to training with Vivienne. She was harsh. After discovering Knowledge could easily create a barrier and manipulate its shape, Madame De Fer spent her time airily shooting lightning and ice at their hearts, pushing the possessed human to attack her. But Knowledge would not: they ran, their plain staff in one hand and a barrier held up by the other. A few times Knowledge redirected the fire expulsions back at Vivienne by batting them like a ball after the human's constant badgering to do something to her. This however did not work with lighting and as the jolt of weak electricity caught them Knowledge screamed in pain falling to their knees but then shoved their staff in front of them, pushing up to stand, their robes scorched and smoking. The spirit swiped another fireball away but the second electric charge was constant this time, forcing her to the ground as their bones seared in agony. They faintly heard a yell, and as soon as it was over Knowledge rolled to her hands and knees and gasped, wiping the saliva from their mouth and still feeling jolts of currents through their veins. Before Asha could coax the spirit to set up their barrier again, Knowledge turned to see Vivienne smiling down at them, and unexpectedly, the spirit cast at the ground before her, an explosion of white that made Madame de Fer soar backwards across the courtyard, hitting the opposite wall of the gardens. Knowledge fell back, out of breath and hurting as Asha cheered the spirit on. The pleasantries were gone from her face when Vivienne reappeared, however Solas called a break.

"You are quite resistant to receiving healing, aren't you?" Vivienne observed, massaging her side. "Strange, it doesn't seem so with anything else cast at you." As Solas tried to send healing magic through the possessed human's back, it did not penetrate the invisible aura around the human and the spirit.

"This has happened before, though I thought it may have been because you were unconscious," Solas muttered as he focussed on trying to push energy through, but to no avail. Knowledge sipped on a potion of healing instead, baulking at its bitter taste and Asha said, _We better learn some more attacks. She wasn't even trying._

"She was toying with us," the spirit murmured back, but Solas made no comment, instead passing her another potion to tie into her belt.

"You may need this with The Iron Bull."

-0-

X

Training with the Qunari was more tactical discussion than with Vivienne at first. The elven mage had taught Knowledge how to use their staff for external focussing of their power as it was possible without, but more erratic in its dispersion. They learnt how to spin and swish it to create certain shapes for different elements, although the closest successful elemental cast was an ice barrier erupting before them from the ground, and the weakest projection of an ice shard that would fall limply on the hardened ground. But when it came to dispellings and barriers, Knowledge was confident in their constructs.

"You're one of those stand back and help out types of mages, right?" said Bull as they walked into the training area on the western side of the fortress. Cassandra was unpadding her target dummy she had been practising with, but took her time to undo the last straps as Knowledge/Asha, Bull and Solas entered the training zone.

"At some point or other, you'll be a target. You're the one protecting and healing the others so if they can take you out, there's your healer gone. That's what Solas does for us. You've also got everyone's lives depending on you getting to them quickly. But you have to defend yourself as well. So how do you both help people and defend yourself against attacks?"

"Stay out of the way," Knowledge relayed for Asha.

"Yes, but you've been spotted; now what?"

"Turn invisible? Hmm, I'm unsure of the dynamics of this magic," Knowledge thought aloud.

"That would be the best thing you could do. If not, move really quickly. We're starting – let's go!" Suddenly, for a being of his size, Bull launched at them, a basic stick in hand and his voice booming across the yard.

Knowledge leapt to the side, rolling forward and into a run as practiced, her hand already up with her barrier, weaving through the other stands and dummies in place. They didn't foresee Bull ripping one out of the ground and throwing it ahead of them, splintering into a thousand pieces that disintegrated as they hit their ghostly shield.

Drenched in sweat and sleeves rolled up, Bull and Knowledge worked on physical evasion over the hour until something happened. The Qunari had directed her to react with more magic as warriors like him were usually at a loss with mages without their real weapons. He was quicker than them at times; with a sudden sprint he pounded the ground towards them panicking Asha, and they froze.

"Asha! Asha stop it!" Knowledge was yelling, but all the human could see in her exhaustion was Bull's mass and horns upon them. Then suddenly, Knowledge's will took over. Their legs moved, Bull was raising his stick over his head about to bring it down on them, and Asha screamed on the inside. They were propelled forward in a haze of blue, Knowledge stealing through the blur that was Bull and the sound of shattering ice trailing behind them. The spirit tried to stop themselves, but they continued dodging a wooden stand, the tree Solas was sitting under and skidded to a heart-stopping halt right before the wall of the Tavern – the grain of the brickwork magnified before their eyes. Knowledge finally took a shaky breath after what seemed an eternity of staring at the wall as Asha was muttering, _Shit, shit, shit_ , over and over.

Slowly turning, they saw the trail of melting ice they had taken, haphazardly winding throughout the training ground, narrowly missing the shady tree and leading to their boots. Back where their trail started The Iron Bull was punching his fist in the air with Solas standing next to him. Trying to walk back after with shaky legs was a feat of its own, and they collapsed in exhaustion under the tree.

"You can't stop now! You've got to try some more after that!" Bull grinned down at the possessed human.

"That one does take a lot of practice. You did well not to run into anything," Solas said, his grey eyes crinkling from his smile, and indicated to his pockets, pointing at hers. Knowledge huffed a laugh back as Asha grinned from ear to ear on the inside, and they took a swig of their potion instantly entering a coughing fit, making her trainers chuckle more.

"Yeah, now maybe that's something you could work on too. Make it taste like wine and I'll make sure you never have to worry in a fight," Bull said flexing his arms at them.

-0-

X

Varric Tethras' training style was quite straightforward in comparison to the previous trainers.

"I've actually done this to you before," he admitted, loading his crossbow and walking away from Knowledge as she stood in-between the archery targets. "But I don't know if you remember the Hissing Wastes?"

"We do not. It seems we don't remember a lot of things from then."

"Good. Anyway, I'm going to shoot over your shoulder and you're going to work on stopping it. However you like. But if you don't stop it just make sure you don't stick your hand up in the way or anything. Archers can come out of nowhere and most of them shoot to just scare you off, but if you don't notice one, and they've got their aim on you –" he slid his finger across his throat, "-you're dead. Got it?"

"Yes."

"Okay, first go!" He released the bolt and it thwacked into the target next to Knowledge. "Okay, whenever you're ready!" He called, reloading.

By the end of the first hour, the possessed human had managed to redirect a couple and the rest disintegrated on their barrier, although they noticed if they didn't add more willpower into it before the bolt reached sometimes a portion of it continued like her wilted ice projections, and they caught two of them in their hands during the session, knocking the rest that partially disintegrated away with their staff.

"Not bad," Varric said as they collected the remaining bolts. "I'll need to get more made, but not bad."

"My apologies," Knowledge replied, picking up the few remaining around the outer edges of the range that she had cast far away from her standing point.

"It's not training if nothing gets damage," the dwarf jested as he filled his bag with the remaining bolts. "Okay, this next one's going to be trickier and I might get Chuckles to help you out a bit."

Upon hearing his mention, Solas stretched and stood from where Varric had been shooting Knowledge from. They were told to stand with their backs to Varric now, in the middle of the archery range. Solas stood near the targets, with Varric on the opposite side of the range so that Knowledge was directly in the middle of them.

"This will be tricky, but handy for you mages. Uh, Chuckles, you can explain the magic stuff."

"Varric is going to shoot at you while you cannot see him. You must sense his presence and the bolt coming towards you to successfully defend yourself," the elf explained.

 _Like before right? As in, not aiming for our heart or anything?_ Asha grimaced. She's broken bones before, but receiving a crossbow bolt was more likely in this scenario than the previous one.

As Solas coaxed Knowledge and Asha through the steps of sensing and perceiving objects out of sight, Asha could feel Knowledge growing more and more frustrated as they felt bolts cut past their arms and hair. At one point they thought they did it, feeling a strange disturbance as if they were surrounded by water and a stone was dropped in – but when they turned they were face to face with an arrow slowing moving forward, of which they realised Solas had stopped in time, his elongated fingers pointed at them, eyebrows knitted and lips curled at the dwarf. Holding his hands up in defence, Varric called, "Just trying to help her along you know! Usually speeds things up!"

"We will work on your level of perceiving," the elf muttered to Knowledge as they roamed the area collecting bolts for the last time that day. By then Knowledge and Asha were most definitely exhausted and they nearly fell asleep in their evening meal making a few of the mages in the Tower lighten up around them at the tables as the spirit shook their senses back, their cheeks burning.

The training routine settled in over the week between the dwarf, Madame De Fer and The Iron Bull during the day, and extra sessions with Solas in the evening after their meals. It was laborious to stay awake and get up early, although their room had been miraculously exchanged for another with space for not only a raised bed, but also a petite stand wide enough for their pile of books. Knowledge also tucked extra food away during mealtimes, extremely hungry after their evening sessions with Solas. Though they were the least physically draining, the intensity of focus and manipulation of the Fade's resonance made their stomach groan afterwards as if they hadn't eaten for days.

As each day passed, the exercises intensified, not only in tactics and specific manoeuvres taught from Bull and Solas, but in audiences as well. The Inquisitor watched her latest session with Vivienne from afar as he stood next to Solas, the solemn pair of elves keenly inspecting the ongoing progress. The contrast between them was prominent – Sariel in his gleaming white armour, though not as thick as the one he had worn on his travels, hair pulled back high into his usual bun with a few strands framing his angular face, the lithe lines of his pale _Vallaslin_ branching across his forehead with intricate detail. Solas explained the cultural tattoos seem to be the inspiration for the Fade markings on Asha's face too, which were eerily similar in its natural design of leaves and vines and at times they gleamed like veilfire in the light; though why, both the spirit and the human were still unsure of.

Their mentor on the other hand, was dressed simply, practically and lacking any markings of sorts save a few scars across his skin, and the sprinkle of freckles across his face. Asha was constantly intrigued by his piece of jewellery around his neck, likening it to a rabbit's foot. It seemed typical of someone so experienced in magic to have a talisman of sorts, but in comparison to the other mages, it also set him apart from the group of magic-users who dressed so majestically. Of all the people she had met so far, her elven instructor without a doubt was the most intriguing of all.

After their few sessions with Mistress Vivienne, Knowledge boasted the mastering of their barrier to cause an explosion of energy around herself and liked to surreptitiously set it in front of Vivienne to run into and trigger, hurling back the enchantress and allowing the spirit to sprint in a flash of blue and ice up to her, sliding around the mage to direct another energy burst. But this time the possessed human did not see her surreal blade appear and they narrowly missed its spectral slice as Knowledge dashed to the side, leaving a boulder of ice between themselves and Madame de Fer. Vivienne cut through the see-through wall with ease, her staff a blade of sparkling light. Asha was in awe of this new display, and instantly envious as Knowledge edged around the cleared area for the mages' training.

The guards patrolling the battlements above them had begun to gather, adding to the growing audience of the session, and Asha asked, _Could we create something like that?_

"No," Knowledge whispered back. "It is a skill that takes a specialist to teach. Solas would not be happy."

Wanting to see the elf's face but unable to direct it to him, Asha continued to analyse their session as Knowledge created an obstacle course of ice walls and trails, dashing between them and holding up their barrier with their free hand as Vivienne sent multiple electrical bolts towards them that followed no matter which way they turned in their blur of movement across the field. Then the ground erupted into flames that grew high around Knowledge and Asha, biting at their robes that they quickly tightened around themselves, and they burst through the flaming cage in a shield of ice that liquefied almost instantly, the flames licking their breeches and the smell of burnt hair surrounding them.

Knowledge cast at Vivienne, urged by Asha to freeze the enchantress in place but she only dispersed the spell with a wave of her hand, reflecting shots of icicles back, disintegrating on the possessed human's immense barrier that held constantly before them as they skated the ice surrounding Madame de Fer, keeping their distance.

"Let's not be here all day," gloated Vivienne as she twirled her staff swiftly, unleashing lightning everywhere that danced across the ice and grass towards their moving target. Some broke into a shattering of light as Knowledge's traps of energy were triggered, left invisibly behind as they used their speed-altering spell to glide along the ice trails, hindering most of the bolts. Jumping off their track onto the ground, Knowledge sprinted, criss-crossing between their enduring melted walls of ice pursued by the remains of vengeful lightning, so fierce and unpredictable that even their elven onlookers stood behind a barrier of safety as crackles of light flicked the walls of the battlements behind them, sizzling against Solas' spell. The guards on the ramparts had ducked out of sight as small discharges flew up into the air.

They were running of ground, breathless, burnt and cornered between Vivienne and her persistent bolts of light remaining, and Knowledge yelled, "Asha! Ideas!"

 _Blast everything!_ The human replied, and without hesitation Knowledge skimmed an ice wall, skidded across the frozen trail and they focussed all their will before them, palm up to the oncoming wave of electrocution, their staff drawn across their arm in the perfect form for a fortified barrier, teeth clenched and legs shaking. But instead of resisting the oncoming assault, they contradicted it – opposed the thought of its existence with an explosion of all the energy and willpower they could summon. The wave of raw power obliterated not only all the forces of lightning unleashed by Madame de Fer, but also every ice trail, frozen wall and dancing fire remaining on the field as their phantom blast was forced in every direction from Knowledge and Asha.

Vivienne withstood the wave; her barrier that was held in place by the focus of her staff began cracking under the untamed mass of power. Solas' however absorbed it, enlarged in force and will, without any further focussing from his hands, staff by his side, ready but not in use. And Sariel impressively watched as Knowledge stood in the centre of the former training ground, nullified of magical effects and the woman let out an unrestrained laugh before collapsing like a house of cards.

The possessed human was still smiling at the sky, eyes scrunched in pain, staff discarded and clutching her burnt arm when Sariel reached her first. Their bronze face glistened with sweat and he noticed a change – a lack of markings on their face. Confused, Sariel was enthralled when their tired eyes opened to show the truest colour of sparkling garnet staring straight into his of blue, held by her intensity. Before she realised what she was doing, Asha squinted a smile at the Inquisitor, and within a moment, the markings returned in hues of green sprouting and darkening like aging leaves, and her eyes – Asha's eyes were engulfed in an entirety of white again, and the smile disappeared. Vivienne gasped as she approached, a pitying look on Solas' face.

As the elves and Madame de Fer traded glances between them, Knowledge muttered something incomprehensible, slowly sitting up and rubbing her head. "Oh, now she's screaming." And the spirit gulped the rest of their potion, trying to dull the physical and mental pain of inhabiting a human host, whispering her apologies to the battling woman inside.

"I'm sorry Asha. I'm sorry."

-0-

X

Guest reviewer – I am having a lot of trouble with separating paragraphs as uploading to this site removes them! I've tried inserting line breaks in Word and in the uploaded version using FF's editor, putting a few - in between, but they do not show. In this I've tried -0- and X as line breaks, so we will see if that worked. I'd appreciate any help in inserting them so they stay in the uploaded versions! Also, shift-enter is a lie.

I'm trying copying and pasting this into FF rather than an upload, see if that works instead. Please let me know your tips around successful line breaks in FF if this does not work!

Frustratedly,

qwertykay

..


	11. Chapter 11 - New Arrivals

"Asha, will you focus!" Knowledge yelled.

The Iron Bull's axe skimmed the sleeves of the woman's robes as she leapt back, leaving a blockade of ice between them. But the Qunari bouldered through it, shattering the glistening pieces as he swiped again and again at the possessed mage. With each attack, Knowledge deflected the blows with their barrier, trying to push him away, but his force was constant and gaining. Their staff connected with his thick blade for a moment before loudly cracking and The Iron Bull laughed as he tried to kick at her, but they had already flown back in a gust of cold air near the wall of the castle's battlement that towered above them, the remains of their weapon in their hands.

"So what do you do now that you have no staff!" He bellowed as he charged across the training ground, his legs pounding the ground shaking it as if a stampede were coming through, the intensity of his eye never faltering from theirs catching Asha's chest again. They froze in place. Knowledge yelled at her, the patience lost from her voice. "Not again! Asha - focus! We must move!"

But it was too late – Bull's charge caught them sending them towards the brickwork. Knowledge managed to create the slightest of barriers between their body and the wall as they collided, but it did nothing to minimise the pain of their body rolling and twisting away from landing.

Their vision was still blurry when their Elven mentor sat them upright, the taste of the unpleasant healing potion forced into their mouths as they spluttered their protest. But Solas' grip was firm until they had finished most of the horrid liquid.

"What is wrong with you today? It's like you're going backwards – I wasn't even trying," Bull bellowed down to them as the woman massaged their sides, shaking their head as if to settle their kaleidoscopic sight.

"We know," Knowledge spat out, her tone as bitter as the potion still sitting at the back of their throat. "Asha is…frustrated and scared. She is also angry and is hurting my head!" The spirit clutched her temples, cringing in pain as the human inside was punching at her walls.

 _You don't listen to me half the time! Why should I bother?_

"Calm down human! It takes time and practice!"

"What is happening?" Solas said, putting a hand on their shoulder holding there even though Knowledge recoiled from it. "Asha, speak to us."

"She does not want to," Knowledge replied sullenly. "She…I will not tell you things she does not want to tell."

"So, she's hampering your efforts? Nice one, Asha," Bull huffed.

"No," Knowledge looked hurt at this. "It is not that she does not want to, but it is that she is…" Knowledge sought for the words, their hands dropping to their sides as her pupil-less eyes and brows relaxed, unscrunching the leaves and branches of their markings. "Just very distracted. It is true!" Knowledge argued with herself. "Because you can't stand being unable to control your body it makes us both unable to do anything! What am I supposed to say?"

Their crossed brows and shifting eyes as if watching something before them dart from place to place was a particular exhibited trait that the Elven mage was used to when they spoke between themselves, and Solas patiently sat back as the banter progressed between the human and the spirit. But Bull was not used to the strange one-sided exchange.

"Uh. Should we leave them to it? I don't really understand what's going on." He wiped his gigantic axe against his breeches and picked up the remains of the woman's staff, raising a brow at her.

"Well it is imposing on our training now, so if we can't sort this out ourselves then we can seek help – they are right here! I don't understand you humans!" Knowledge huffed a quiet fury with themselves, their cheeks reddened.

"Wait a minute." Bull had found the other half of their staff and walked back with the remains. "Asha, is it lady stuff?"

"God!" the woman slapped her hand to her face, "It's alright Bull. Thank you, it's nothing like that." When her hand dropped the strangest sight beheld the men before her. Her tattoos were shimmering and her startled eyes – there was colour to her eyes.

Solas and Bull were as stunned as the woman before them who held her hands before her, her eyes widening further, a glint in them as she looked up at them and was about to say something – and then her head jerked as if she had been yanked back. The tattoos darkened, her eyes paled to their eerie white, and the woman regained her expressionless composure.

The woman sat there, still and silent.

"What happened?" The Iron Bull demanded. "Was that…Asha?"

"This may be a good sign that you may be able to regain control on your own," Solas quietly said. A chill wind blew through the training area rustling the mages robes. "Knowledge? When was the last time this happened?"

"Fighting Vivienne." It sounded like Knowledge rolled her eyes, but the men couldn't tell.

"And before that?"

The spirit pondered, tilting their head at the dirt, one hand massaging their temple. "Only some movements. Like a smile, or moving our hands. It has been more…recent that Asha has had more bodily control. It's painful, and then she is also…loud after it happens."

"Can you tell when she's about to take over?" Bull hesitated on the words.

"No. There has been no warning. Although I have felt in the minute instances what it is like to be Asha." She looked directly at Solas. "I did not like it. Trapped. Nothing would do as I wanted."

"And you can't just, let it go? Flutter off back into the Fade?" Bull flapped his fingers as he said this, making the possessed human smile.

"Not without killing her." Knowledge's words deadened the conversation, and in silent agreement, they packed up their gear. Training was done for the day.

-0-

Knowledge and Asha however were not finished with their tasks for the day. One included being chaperoned by Templar guards into the Throne Room and up flights of stairs with walls of paintings and portraits lit by candles in holders along the way. Though it was late afternoon, the interior of Skyhold did not encourage natural sunlight into its long and narrow halls and stairwells, but the open aired solar that Vivienne claimed above the hall allowed all the natural lighting and warmth it could gather. When they walked in, the brightness and chill air greeted them.

The Templars left Knowledge and Asha to their fate with Vivienne who solemnly greeted them.

"We do need to ensure we are accomplishing an exotic mage look to highlight our newest addition to the Inquisition. With demons and Tevenes amongst us I will not let Sariel make a fool of himself at the Winter Palace if I can help it. And I'm not sure about the ruffles," Vivienne murmured as the tailor gently adjusted the golden corset on Knowledge and Asha, adding in curves that did not exist before on their straight body.

Neither spirit nor human liked being so close to Vivienne and being dressed in her open solar, but the Iron Lady was not interested in pursuing more conflict with them at the moment, but did not reserve her usual display of distaste for the spirit. She was more interested in ensuring the correct appearance at the ball, and as they had put on their first layers of skirts and dress, the possessed human was out from their privacy screens being scrutinised by Vivienne and the tailor.

A dwarf shorter than Varric, Asha couldn't help but laugh as Knowledge bent down to the tailor before he could climb his mini ladder beside them. He muttered a brisk thank you as he delicately draped the sheer fabric over their head with hands that blurred with speed and skill as it was worked into their bodice and laced loosely down their arms like a waterfall, trimmed with golden shoulder clasps and completing their outfit, or so he said. The dark-haired dwarf stood back, looking up at his handiwork on Knowledge and Asha, nodding satisfactorily without a hint of a smile.

Knowledge breathed a sigh, whispering, "We are done, yes?" They had not seen themselves yet.

But Madame De Fer entered the picture with crisp downturned brows.

"What is the meaning of the lack of underskirts? Surely even at your height that is quite apparent."

The dwarf equalled her stony gaze with his own charcoal eyes. "You asked for exotic mage. This is exotic mage."

"Exotic mage doesn't mean dancing girl, my dear Galvin."

"You've not seen many dancing girls, my Lady Vivienne. I do have a template for that type of outfit, if you would like? It's a popular package amongst nobles nowadays, evening and lingerie attire."

A snort escaped from the screens on the other side of the solar followed by an unconvincing cough.

"New fabric, always makes my nose twitch," Dorian's voice came through.

"Knowledge, turn. Let's see if we can salvage this."

As they turned slowly, annoyed at having to follow Vivienne's directive they caught sight of themselves in the long mirror, the spirit's grimace changed to perplexion at their style of outfit.

There indeed was a lack of opaque underskirts. The floral embroidered overskirt was the colour of mint green, its ruffles falling short above their knees at the front, but still shaped outward and to the ground then the sides and back. The same sheer silk-like fabric that added a modest touch above their corset and bodice and covered their arms also fell around their legs as an underskirt to add modesty here as well. But their shapely thighs were still all too eye-catching underneath, no matter the second layer of sheer fabric that Galvin the tailor held up to their legs.

"Darling we wanted to simply say, I am ethereal, I am a mage, I am supposedly good, and I am part of the Inquisition. This still is missing something."

The dwarf went to reply, but instead clapped his hands as the necromancer emerged from his screens adorned formally in a thick jacket of red and gold, his blue sash immaculately in place and belted across, new breeches and polished boots on his feet. He was not bothered by Galvin adjusting and tapering his clothing, but pried at Knowledge's outfit with his hands on his hips.

"Oh no Vivienne. That doesn't speak exotic mage at all. At least. Not their type of exoticness, I suppose," he agreed, and both of the mages stood together, nodding curiously at the woman.

"I feel like it needs to be white," Dorian added. "Not this yellow and green business."

"Yes, it's a bit too regal for her, isn't it?"

"What about that?" Knowledge quickly pointed to the floor-length tunic dress on the feminine mannequin behind them. "I had liked that one. And I would like to get out of this one," she muttered to Asha.

"That is a template, not an actual dress!" laughed the Iron Lady, actually allowing her eyes to crinkle.

Dorian however, was grinning. "But that would be perfect – simple, enchanting and very different to the Orlesian ball gowns. It would be completely exotic amongst the ballooning poofy skirts…" As he pictured the possessed human in the simple design next to her looking from one to the other, Galvin was still following the mage trying to take in his jacket, outlining his frame even further.

Vivienne scoffed. "She'd look as exotic as the Elven servants."

"Oh? Is this a bad time?"

The three mages turned to see Inquisitor Sariel watching them, having entered and already halfway through undoing his white gloves.

"Sariel, you are going to enjoy how royal these suits make you feel – mind you, it is not as elaborate as an Inquisition's outfit might be. There's hardly enough gold trimming. I guess we should count ourselves lucky that Galvin here was brought to us on such short notice to arrange our formality."

But the Elven Inquisitor had not even heeded Dorian as he stared at the woman behind him. Knowledge met his gaze and even though a slight chill was blowing through the towering windows, the red screens drawn across the banisters shielding them both from anyone visiting the vast hallway below and the cold, their shoulders prickled hot under the sheer fabrics. It was the least amount of clothing anyone had seen them in.

 _Maybe we shouldn't change dresses?_ Asha laughed as Knowledge grabbed the mannequin and pulled it behind the screen with them. Dorian tried to pull the tailor and Sariel into his discussion of the belting of the suits however Galvin was quick to leave the necromancer and stop the spirit from pulling at the fabrics herself behind the screens.

"Cost me your weight in gold!" he muttered as he gently laid out the layers, folded them in two swift movements and left them and the headless mannequin with a huff. The white dress easily slipped over them and buttoned at the back, and in only a minute Knowledge stepped out for what she hoped was the last time to inspect herself.

The Inquisitor was gone as well as Vivienne – only Dorian remained in the spacious solar, relacing his boots in a chair and then admiring his portrait in the mirror.

Knowledge stepped up beside him and smiled. "Ah, much better."

The simple dress was made for Asha's body. From the width of their shoulders to the slightest of dips below their chest, the thick fabric much like her robes were embracing towards their frame down their torso, and caressed their lower body to flow lightly to the floor. It was warmer than the airy ball gown, with which Asha completely approved of. So did Dorian, from his appreciative reflection beside her.

"Simple but it is you. Does your hair just do this? Splendid." Knowledge allowed the mage to touch their hair, fingering out the light side braids the spirit liked to have so that the dark curls that stopped near their ears framed their face. He grinned, pleased with his added touch. "Your taste is not bad, Knowledge."

Vivienne and Galvin appeared with fabrics in their hands, but at seeing Knowledge standing before them, Galvin stopped, nodded, and tossed all the glittering designs except for one onto the sofa beside them. He pointed at the step ladder that Dorian obligingly put behind the spirit, and the dwarf stepped up and put the long, lightly embroidered garment over their head. It fell just to their ribs on the front, but the sides cascaded out like the skirts they were wearing before, reaching the floor like a regal cape, but humbler in its colouring compared to the red suits the Inquisitor's party would be wearing. Vivienne and Dorian were quiet as the dwarf adjusted the elaborate fawn design edged in gold and bronze stitching. Behind them Sariel stepped out in his royal attire, unbeknownst to the others, taking a few steps and turning as he tested his boots before the windows.

Knowledge watched him in the mirror as he continued to tap his heels in, frowning, taking a few steps, then repeating the process. He didn't seem impressed with the footwear and he bent down to adjust the laces, showing his back to them and completely absorbed in the process, his jacket and the top of his brown breeches all stiff and new as they hugged his frame tightly and gloriously highlighted his behind.

 _Knowledge, focus,_ Asha whispered mockingly.

Shifting their gaze away before Asha could make another comment, Knowledge found Dorian smugly observing her in the mirror.

Heat shot up their neck and Knowledge locked her gaze to her new gown in the mirror as Galvin made a last pinning on the cape.

 _Oh, he doesn't even know where you're looking! And I was enjoying the view, thank you very much._

"So, Knowledge: do you like what you see?" Dorian asked lightly. Flitting a look at the mage, the spirit quickly returned her attention to the gown as Galvin helped to remove the cape over her head as Sariel appeared next to him.

"It is much too simple. You will cause more concern if she turns up like this to Halamshiral," Vivienne said pointedly.

"I'm sure there's lots in the Inquisition to cause more concern than what she wears," Sariel said, his light eyes unreadable. "Which do you care for?"

"This one," Knowledge stated without looking at him.

"Inquisitor, this will not work out well," Vivienne tried, but he was already unbelting his own outfit, Dorian helping pull the blue sash before the Inquisitor could even think of cutting it off.

"She is one potions belt away from looking like an apostate!"

"Doesn't that make it suitable? Better than looking like an Elven servant, right?" He smiled at Vivienne then headed back to his screens to fully change. The tailor had sized the Inquisitor's measurements up perfectly.

The mages exchanged raised eyebrows to each other as Knowledge stepped behind their screen too, changing back into their even plainer grey robes and scarves that they loosely wrapped around their neck which was still prickling. The spirit could feel the human's mirth, but neither said anything.

From behind the red screen, they heard boots scuffing up the stairs.

"Is the Inquisitor here?"

"I'll be one moment."

"Horsemaster Dennet has news of the new shipment, my Lord."

Papers shuffled in hands, and the Inquisitor's voice was louder and clearer.

"I will be right there. Dorian – come with me."

When the possessed human stepped out pulling on their dark jacket, only Vivienne and Galvin remained. The Dwarf cleared away his works while Vivienne sat languidly in a chair, watching them.

"Knowledge, it is only because of the Inquisitor's wish and nothing else that you are still around. It is the only reason I have not tried to get rid of you myself," she said slowly, motioning for them to take a seat across from her. But Knowledge only stood beside it. "You are fortunate to have people believe your story but you are still a demon possessing a human. And when you truly show your violent ways, we will stop you."

The spirit said nothing.

"But you're also not a very good one, aren't you?" Vivienne continued. "For one, your staff broke today. You haven't even been using a proper training one! Solas has not been providing you with the correct equipment." She smirked, and looked out towards the window, her pointed features lit in the afternoon glow.

Knowledge lifted her shoulders at the Iron Lady. "What do you want?"

"Oh, I don't want anything from you. You couldn't possibly trick me with any of your promises and wishes. I just want you to know that I will be there when you really appear." Her smile was that of a statue without any intended warmth. "That is all."

Then she waved away at the possessed human and with a last frown at Madame Der Fer, and holding their tongue from saying a few things that Asha was muttering, Knowledge held their head up and left, trying not to race down the stairs away from the cold mage.

-0-

"I've been making some notes on the thing, and it seems like any other mount except for, y'know, the obvious. But it can't stay here; the others are terrified."

Horsemaster Dennet's arms were crossed as he scowled at the beast before them. Sariel did not know what to expect when he had first heard of the elusive group 'The Collective' wanting to gift the Inquisition, but he certainly did not picture the sight before him. Not even the Horsemaster's note prepared him for the ghastly vision before Commander Cullen, Dorian, Ser Blackwall and himself.

"How is it…still alive?" Blackwall breathed.

"Your tranquil upstairs had some better answers than some of your mages, Inquisitor. Something put inside it is still spurring it on. It doesn't seem to need to eat – though it's dunked its head into the water trough. Who knows?"

"It's kind of ridiculous, isn't it? I mean, who leaves the weapon that killed the damned horse in it and sends it to you? 'Ah Inquisitor, please accept our most glorious prized possession! We couldn't be bothered cleaning it up for you though!' Oh wait, perhaps the sword is a separate gift? You should pull it out," Dorian nodded as he inspected the mount in detail, lightly tracing where the aged and weathered sword impaled the horse's head from below its beak-like jaw, its point protruding from the horse's head like an ironic horn. Dorian was the only one of them daring to be close to the being.

Sariel put his hands behind his head, letting his breath out slowly so it fogged before him as the sun began to set. The horse was dead. Then it was brought back to life. After apparently having served The Collective for some time, it was bestowed to the Inquisitor who was unsure whether it was a prank or an honest offering. Running his hands over the tight hairless skin of its back to its pure red mane – strangely this and its tail hair were still untouched by decay and attached – Dorian seemed at ease with the creature.

"Leliana has suggested you begin your travel to the Winter Palace tomorrow with this," Cullen said hardly hiding his disgust at the undead mount.

"I doubt you'd gain any more followers riding around on this – thing," Blackwall remarked, leaning back against the stable wall.

"What did you mean something is still spurring it on, Dennett? Isn't this some sort of enchantment?" Sariel asked.

"Well, Helisma said that it's the willpower of something inside it, maybe even a spirit or demon, whatever you like to call those things. It's chilling, but she seemed fine with it. Well, I guess she seems fine with everything, right?"

Dorian burst out laughing as he stroked the red mane of the beast. "How many possessed things can we gather here at Skyhold, I wonder? Inquisitor – you could begin a collection! Oh that's even funnier. A collection from The Collective."

"Do not tell Vivienne or anyone else for that matter," the Inquisitor breathed, running his hand over his hair. He took out the plaited weave he was using to tie it back, and sighed. "This is just perfect. Cullen, can't we send it back?"

"That would be quite rude and possibly stir up conflict – we need all the allies we can get," he muttered, not taking his eyes off the mount. "Although, we could keep this thing at the outside camp. Away from here."

The mount whinnied, making all the men except Dorian jump.

"Oh come on Sariel – imagine how terrifying you would look to the Venatori and Corypheus - any of your noble enemies!" gleamed the necromancer. "This is perfect for amplifying your presence!"

"No." Their Elven leader sighed. "Dorian, you seem so happy with it. Could you take care of arranging for its…needs? I'm not really sure what undead things need."

"I'd be glad to assist." A thought dawned on the mage, and he looked at the Inquisitor. "You should mount it. Just to try it out!" Against Sariel's protests, a saddle and stirrups were produced, and the mount did not complain to being dressed.

"This will only happen once." Gingerly, it was led out of the stable into the clearing. The Inquisitor did not meet its eyes when he approached it, shedding any nerves from his system before putting his foot in the stirrup and lifting himself onto the dark horse.

It was taller than Falka, but the pointy edge of the sword jutting from its head in front of Sariel was so unnerving that the Inquisitor only led it around in a motion before dismounting speedily.

"Come on Dorian, I know you want to." Sariel held the reins out to the mage who delightfully grabbed them, shaking the Elf's hand afterwards.

"Oh, now this I could get used to." Dorian charmingly led the mount around, allowing the dark horse to wander along until he redirected it gently.

"How's this?" The mage held out his hands causing purple and black clouds of magic to appear, holding his head high and grinning at his onlookers: a triumphant smirk on his face. Blackwall chuffed at the sight, however Dennett and Cullen were unimpressed with the gaudy display of talent.

"It is very you," Sariel laughed as Dorian reigned in the mount, brushing it off as it was freed of its saddle and works. "It is so very you. In fact, it suits you that much you should have it."

"Inquisitor! I couldn't," the mage said bashfully, passing equipment to the Dennett's serving man. "What would people say?"

"They would say, look at that necromancer riding his dead steed. How mighty he must be," Cullen drawled. "Well, I'll be off. There is still much to do for tomorrow now that you have – this - sorted."

As the Commander's fur coat disappeared out the stables, Dorian tutted, "Maybe we should get Cullen a new steed, for missing out."

"No," Dennett cut in. "There is not enough room now. We'll sort for this thing to stay tonight since you'll be leaving in the morning and hopefully taking it with you." He looked pointedly at Sariel.

"Only if Dorian wants to ride it to Halamshiral," Sariel replied. "I mean it Dorian. I really won't…appreciate it like you would. And I already have Falka. I don't think she'd forgive me."

"Well if you've got no better use for it, I'd be happy to have my majestic unicorn by my side." Dorian patted its head as it made a friendly whinny, both of them looking at the Elven warrior who could only shake his head at the sight of them.

Dennett left the stables too muttering, "What madness have I joined?"

As they made their way out of the smell of animals and brushed hay from their breeches, Dorian said lightly, "Speaking of majestic things, Inquisitor: what did you make of Knowledge this afternoon?"

"What do you mean?" Sariel narrowed an eye at the mage as they strolled through the grassy aisle past merchants and civilians.

With Dorian by his side, the Inquisitor was more recognisable as the Herald, and a few men and women curtsied or offered prayers as they continued through. He still felt uneasy about being called a 'Herald' but Dorian was an excellent shield for lapping up attention as he waved and nodded back while carrying their conversation. As it got darker, lanterns were lit and trades were packed for the day.

"I mean she is becoming quite outspoken, no? A bit more confident from being with us for a month. A bit more…well, more to them I suppose," commented the mage.

"Perhaps. Are you concerned?"

"Hardly – it's interesting! Especially the tension between Lady Vivienne and her. But I guess it comes down to accepting spirits and demons amongst men which, I for one, am quite used to. Many magisters have demon slaves after all. And it seems we're quite divided – it used to be Cole that separated our views but now this is one step up from him! And yes, we will refrain from mentioning the unicorn for as long as possible too."

"Dorian, it is not a unicorn."

"Indulge my imagination Inquisitor, you'll appreciate it so that it doesn't become a nightmare that you dream of."

"Vivienne will obviously see it tomorrow."

"Madame De Fer will be riding in a carriage for the entire journey – I'll save her the surprise for one of our stops along the way." The dazed look Dorian presented imagining the moment only made Sariel shake his head further at the human again.

"But the dress, Inquisitor – what did you think of it?"

"Does it matter? The second one was better." The climbed the steep cut steps, nodding at a passing scout and sighing as they made an official greeting to Sariel, then continued.

"Exactly, it just suited their 'beyond this realm' look. No, not everyone will know what she is at the Ball," Dorian explained when Sariel shot him a questioning glance. "But those that do – like this Morrigan lady – every little bit will help."

"What do you know of this Morrigan?"

"Occultist, said to be a witch, not as much of a court magician to Empress Celene as the last one," he listed off. "But really, not much else after that. Oh, and Vivienne hates her. As in, she'd prefer a hundred demons to this Morrigan woman."

As they walked past the tavern's entrance, the soft strumming of guitar and muffled laughter enticingly welcoming their senses from the open door spreading before them. Sariel and Dorian noticed the back of a woman with tanned skin, short dark hair and a mage jacket to match disappear into the establishment before The Iron Bull stepped through after her, closing the wooden door behind them. In the dark, Sariel and Dorian looked at each other, the mage looking slightly aghast and they followed them in.

The musician strummed lightly on her guitar, a gentle upbeat melody that blended with the cheery tone of the guests. Only a few tables were taken downstairs, however Bull and Knowledge/Asha were nowhere to be seen. Dorian pointed towards the staircase to the quieter level of the tavern, and they slowly climbed it.

"What are we even doing?" Sariel whispered.

"We're investigating suspicious activity," the necromancer shot back, and he held out his hand so abruptly that the Elf ran into it, but was silenced by Dorian's finger to his mouth.

"So here, Dalish recommended it," they heard The Iron Bull saying. Peering up into the next floor from the open staircase, the pair saw the Qunari pass something to Knowledge who held it for a moment, head down.

"This is too generous The Iron Bull, it was not necessary. We were so unfocussed today. You can't do this every time we get something broken." The quiet happiness in the spirit's voice made Dorian make a small disapproving noise.

"No but I gave you a hard time. And I broke it. Just, don't tell anyone, okay?" The larger man looked both uncomfortable and pleased with himself when Knowledge placed the staff before them and made the pink crystal embedded in its top glow softly with matching light. Their faces were illuminated, and even from the side they could see the spirit was smiling.

"But what do I say to Solas about it? Asha loves that it is pink and she says thank you as well. You must let us know if we can ever help in return." Suddenly Knowledge's head jerked, their eyes flitting, an inner conversation. The spirit hissed something at herself making the Inquisitor and mage exchange glances again. The Elf tugged at Dorian's sleeve and indicated down the stairs – Bull and the possessed human only had to look up and at them to see they were there, even in the dim light. But Dorian was intrigued with the exchange before them, putting up a finger at the Inquisitor – one more minute.

The Qunari laughed quietly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Must be hard, having an actual voice in your head saying things to you. It's pretty creepy but, must be hard."

"Hard is an understatement," Knowledge sighed. "Asha can be quite base at times. Base is also an understatement," the spirit whispered to herself. "Thank you, again."

"Okay that's enough with the thanks. Just remember, you don't tell anyone. Same goes to you two," Bull called out looking directly at the top of Dorian and Sariel's heads from the stairwell.

The men froze, and Knowledge turned sharply, surreptitiously placing the staff behind them.

"Damn," Sariel muttered as they climbed the stairs to fully present themselves. "Good evening Bull. Knowledge. Asha. Fine evening. Yes?"

"You are terrible at this," Dorian said. "It's so nice to see you both enjoy each other's company in training and outside of it."

"No need to be jealous, just making reparations," Bull said opening his arms as a peace offering. "I broke her staff. I got her a new one. That's it. I wasn't trying to be sneaky about it. And - " he placed his hand that was twice the size of Knowledge's over hers and the staff, pulling it around to show the glowing light to the men, "-it's pink! Beautiful, right?"

Knowledge took her hand and staff back from The Iron Bull, covering the flush creeping up their neck with their scarf as they walked towards the higher staircase that led out onto the battlements – a discreet exit for soldiers and guests alike.

"Good evening," Knowledge said haughtily without looking at either of the men as she left.

"Isn't she meant to have Templars with her?" Dorian asked.

"Inquisitor, are you checking up on me?" The Iron Bull asked, walking over to them. His mood was undetectable.

"No. We followed Knowledge. We did see you but it was her more." Sariel wasn't making a lot of sense with the Qunari focussing directly at him.

"And you?" Bull said to the mage.

"Curiosity beckoned me in here. I didn't think she was your usual type." Dorian tried to sound nonchalant but it wasn't convincing.

"Oh? You know what my usual type is?" Sariel was not interested in hearing about Bull's type, or anything further between the mage and the Qunari, and crept back towards the stairs. This was enough for a day and by this time tomorrow they'd be camped for a few hours on their journey to Halamshiral. It was time to go.

"Inquisitor – before you leave," Bull called. "You better start trusting Knowledge and Asha. I'm not experienced with demons and usually I'd be the first to mention killing it – but they seem to check out. And now I'm kind of keen to meet Asha as herself." He could hear the Qunari grinning as the Inquisitor left the establishment, sighing with relief for the quiet cool air.

It was going to be a long journey to Halamshiral.

-0-

Author comment:

If you're a follower or reviewer, thank you!

It is that hectic time of the year – as opposed to every other time in my life this year that has been quite hectic – but I will try and get back to reviewers and messages during and after this holiday season.

Constructive reviews are always very welcome and I will continue to check out your works to reciprocate this~


	12. Chapter 12 - The Champion

Running up the fine sand hill, each step sinking and trying to pull her back as far as she moved forward, the woman clambered to the top of the hot dune and stood there, sweat and the glare of the shimmering water stinging her eyes. The salty breeze picked up sand to scratch her arms and neck and whip her curls against her face. Her boots were full of sand. She breathed in deeply and shut her eyes for a moment, enjoying the cool air against her skin, uncaring of the grit gathering in her hair and the back of her robes. Then she glided down the dune towards the water, grinning, quickly unlacing her boots so that her feet were kissing the sand. As she ran towards the water she tugged at her belt. Her robes discarded and pants flung aside, she waded knee deep through the foaming water until it reached the top of her underwear. She turned her back to the ocean, taking in the shoreline she so often jogged along in the afternoons. She would longingly watch the languid water lurch onto the shore. For all her years, she had never dared swim in these waters. Holding her arms out, she fell back into the cool water and floated, closing her eyes.

"Knowledge?"

Sitting up in the shallows, her eyes adjusting to the bright light, she stared. The water was pink, then white, then silver. The beach was gone, the sky was gone, and she was in a familiar flowing river of rainbow that stretched eternally around her. Studying the pattern of the woven green breeches before her, her eyes followed them up past the knees to the knitted tunic and bone necklace. The brightness of the white haze surrounding them made her blink hard in the glare of trying to see his face. Water dripped from her bare thighs as she stood up.

Solas looked as intrigued as her, but it was not her lack of clothing that startled him.

"Your eyes."

He reached to her, a finger tracing in front of her temples, so close to touching her that her skin prickled underneath each swirl of movement mimicking the tattoo designs.

"Asha."

"Yes."

"You are…yourself?"

"It feels like it. Except. Also not," she said slowly, looking down at her arms and hands.

Solas looked around at the endless whiteness and rainbow waters. "How do you feel?"

She hesitated, still inspecting herself. "I feel like I'm in a dream. Which, I know I am. I used to dream like this, knowing it was a dream. Things are real and not, right? This is the Fade?"

He pondered this question. "Yes, you are correct there to a point. Actions here could affect the real world; however, as you say, we are in a dream. And these dreams are based on memories as well. Memories can be truths and nontruths. And also because we are in a dream we can create and cause events to occur. Say, for example, if you were to produce clothes."

Her shoulders shook with laughter as she imagined the first outfit she could, and was suddenly wearing her training tunic and breeches.

The water, the library, the Inquisition. Training, Knowledge, magic. The memories of the last gruelling month of being completely detached of control from her own body were there, and though she felt she should be lapping up her freedom and enjoying saying what she wanted –it would not last. But she didn't want to scream into her hands as she did when she couldn't even scratch her own nose at her whim. Dream logic determined she could be here, in control, and also accept she would return back to her prison within herself. The fact that she had been back home swimming for the first time in the open ocean, that she knew, that everyone knew, you did not swim in.

The elf stared at her, tracing her eyes with his. Rolling her sleeves up evenly, she took her time doing this as she felt him watching her every move. She could almost hear the thoughts speeding through his head.

"What?" she asked after he didn't say anything for a time.

"If you are separated from Knowledge, she should also appear."

"I've been here before. I met Knowledge in a library from here."

They wandered through the shimmering river as Asha retold her first encounter with the spirit.

"It was like I went from here to there. It just happened." She stopped, looked down at the waters around her legs, frowning. "I think it was down."

They both studied the shimmer of their feet in the opalescent liquid. She was thankful for the lack of raining books this time, remembering explaining the fiction of the novel that Knowledge had treasured. The spirit questioned every aspect of it until she had a headache from sharing all the science and history of her world that she knew through thoughts and memories.

Asha's temples furrowed with her little smile, as if she wasn't sure about smiling. The tall elf went to ask but then they were falling into darkness, the roaring in their ears reaching to a pitch so high that they shut their eyes tightly. Her body bumped his as he grabbed her arm and pulled her close. And as sudden as they fell, they stopped.

The floor was littered with tomes and pages of books, charred and greying in a sea of ripped and burnt parchment; ashes floating in the air, frozen. Asha looked around her, slipping from the stack of books she was on and she felt the tug of Solas' hand still around her arm. He did not seem to realise, transfixed absolutely by their surroundings. He meandered off towards what should have been the mammoth wooden doors, the walls completely obliterated at the entrance as if a giant had broken its way into the old structure. Stepping gingerly from hard cover to hard cover, Asha cringed as she followed; the act completely sacrilegious no matter whether the books were real or not.

Another realm greeted them as they left the dusty confines of the library. At the ledge of the floating land in the space and void of grey and green, facing the other floating lands that defied the law of gravity and challenged Asha's belief that they were looking up – for maybe they were looking down and the other floating lands were the right way up instead – Knowledge hovered, glowing and glittering as an ethereal spirit. She turned, seemingly facing the elf as he approached her.

"Andaran atish'an, Solas."

"Andaran atish'an, Dirthalen."

Asha neared them, mouth open in awe, stopping a few paces from Solas. He stood next to the spirit, their backs to her but slightly turned in expectation.

 _"It is being lost. I carry it all with me, and without it this place cannot exist for much longer. Soon it will crumble like the others. Soon there will not be many fractions left."_

 _"We will repair it. All will not be lost, my friend."_

 _"No, that is true. Parts will remain. But not all. It will never be the same. That is evident."_ Knowledge turned to the human behind them. "Asha. I hope this helps. It is good to be…myself."

She took a step forward, but Asha did not want to get too close to both the spirit and the ledge. Their conversation in Elven echoed in her head, the rhythmical words as understandable as their common tongue. "What happened here?"

The spirit seemed to sigh. "This remainder of the Vir Dirthara will not sustain without my presence. I was its keeper. As we were ripped out and taken from here and as our bond was sealed, it also sealed parts of ourselves within. I cannot remain here, nor can I repair it without being released from your body. Just as you cannot seem to delve further into your abilities as well. This is the first time we have entered the Fade in our dreams because we are physically close you," the spirit said, turning to Solas.

"You mean we can't enter the Fade ourselves in our own dream? That we're blocking each other out?" Asha asked flicking her finger between herself and the spirit. "But we've been living in the Mage Tower – we're surrounded by other mages. Could it be possible we have been dreamwalking and not remembering it?"

"No. You would remember these dreams. And you have not been entering the Fade because you have not been sleeping next to any of them," Solas said pointedly.

Asha raised her brows at the elf. "That could be arranged, if Knowledge could acquiesce."

The spirit said nothing.

"So, this whole time...we could've been here? Does this then explain why we've been so terrible at spell-casting? Could Knowledge not stay to fix – this?" The woman nudged her head towards where they had appeared in the flurry of ashes and books.

"That would mean you would be sleeping forever at this point." Solas crossed his arms, looking from Asha to the spirit. The woman was tapping her foot as she thought to herself. The questions piled, but she wanted to ponder them without intrusion from the spirit, focussed on the ground. Her eyes suddenly locked onto his, feeling his gaze, sharing a glance.

"So," she eventually said, "what should we do while we're here for this time? Unless we're planning on sleeping together often."

Knowledge sighed as Solas chuckled. "While we are travelling to Halamshiral, this is the perfect time to ensure you are enlightened about the political situation of Orlais and Ferelden. Let's explore through these pathways as we do so. I would like to see as much as I can." Holding his hand up, floating pieces of debris formed a makeshift bridge from the ledge, and he stepped over it walking across to another setting of dead trees and paved floors that had lazily floated up before them.

Asha didn't even try to explain Vivienne and Fiona have been 'guiding' her and Knowledge through topics of discussion and how to civilly discuss life with those at the Winter Palace. Each woman held their own agenda in their weighted words – Asha and Knowledge agreed between themselves to avoid as much alignment as possible with either of them in public.

Knowledge soared across before Solas. Looking over his shoulder to the woman, she took a deep breath and focussed on her mentor who stood on the other bank, facing her with his hands behind his back. She recognised that stance. The stance of discussing all that could be discussed and more, no questions off-limits, honest opinions and logic applied. The stance of patience. The stance she often took at the back of her classroom as she admired her students working diligently –the moment as rare as diamonds for some lessons. She hastily jogged over the indefinite bridge, not daring to look down away from his grey eyes; grey like the last ashes of burnt pages.

-0-

Asha sat up in her bedroll so quickly she almost rolled forward towards the glowing embers of the campfire. Blinking profusely and shaking her head, ascertaining the reality around her of the grey dawn, grey trees and grey eyes that appeared as she blinked; her body ached, seemingly bruised all over. Her neck almost pulled when she spun to see Solas stirring in his own bedroll next to her. He groggily sat up and leaned on his knees, a hand rubbing his eye.

Her eyes were brown and tattoos faded grey. Before he could mutter a word – a launching of lizards splattered his head. Asha managed to bat the two aimed straight for her face with disgust – "The Hell!"- one sizzling on the hot charcoal.

"You ruined it!" hissed Sera from behind. She was standing above them, uncaring of the members of the Inquisition beginning to stir from their bedrolls in the clearing they were camped, some peeking from under their dew shelters. She dusted her hands on her tattered clothes. "I've been planning that you know-" her words were cut off as Asha launched out of her bedroll towards the Elven girl, curly mass of hair stuck in all directions. With a swift hand she cast a blaze of fire into the air before her as she threw a punch at the elf. She missed, the fire ball exploded between them and the blonde girl jumped back out of the heat. But the smell of singed hair made her nose curl as she glowered at Asha, her dagger shining in her hand. Solas – suddenly quite awake after swiping the creatures from himself yelled, "No!"

Asha, with both hands raised, ready to cast all she could force towards the elf, froze. She shot a look at her mentor. He shook his head. She crossed her hands into her arms and stood back, her furious eyes fixed on the blonde elf with a scrunched up face back at her. Their fury sizzled in the air between them.

From behind, Varric and Bull were gathered with the Inquisition soldiers, some at arms, others wary, all now quite awake as they watched.

Sera wasn't finished. "You better frickin' watch it, whatever you are. If you can't take a joke-" she stopped as ice grew instantly up her body and over her mouth. Asha's finger was raised to her lips at the elf, still smoking with the frosty casting before she folded her arms again. Varric spluttered a covered laugh and Bull's eye widened, impressed and eager to see more.

"What is this?" demanded a severe voice. The Inquisition soldiers drew to attention without falter, making way for Seeker Pentaghast as she stepped through them, eyeing each person up and following their indicative glances to the causes of the early morning commotion.

Even without her full set of armour on, she was a formidable force. Looking from Solas to the tanned woman beside him, then to the frozen block of Sera, she ordered compliance without speaking a word. With a reluctant gesture of her hand Asha defrosted her. She swayed from the sudden release, her frozen words suddenly announced to everyone as, "Frickin' bitch!"

Sera shook the cold off, quickly adding, "Not you Seeker, obviously," then glared at Asha.

Cassandra inspected Solas' companion, drawing closer to her, comprehension drawing across her face as he confirmed her suspicions with a look. Seeker Pentaghast rounded on the woman.

"When did this happen?"

"I woke up like this," Asha said.

"And Knowledge?"

"I can't hear her." With a puzzled expression, Asha turned her head to the side, looking down, listening. "I haven't heard her. Knowledge?" No response came.

"And why did this happen?" Cassandra indicated to Sera who was now walking off towards the packed horses and second camp of the Inquisitor and his councilmen nearby. It was unclear whether she flipped them off or quickly waved over her back, her muttering trailing off. Asha breathed out deeply, her hands relaxing from digging into her arms, her lip tender from where she had bitten the corner.

"She threw lizards at us. I threw fire at her. It was…completely ridiculous. Sorry," she said loudly to everyone around them. The blank faces of the Inquisition soldiers and the sheltered and not-so-sheltered smirks from Varric and The Iron Bull made her look away from them rather quickly, her neck flaring up.

"Well clearly we need to work on a little more restraint when dealing with the likes of Sera. If you're going to be brash at everyone who says something to you, you will soon have a mob after you," Cassandra pointed out sternly. "We don't have time for this silly in-fighting, so get along. That is my recommendation if you are going to be with us." Turning to the rest of the Inquisition she ordered for them to move out.

Asha couldn't help but smile as she packed her bedroll and helped dispose of the camp. She could walk. She could talk. She didn't know what exactly to say to anyone else, so followed Solas' conduct of packing their own equipment into their bags, staffs secured into carts – "To withhold prejudice from travellers," the elf explained – but it soon dawned on her how much she had not actually experienced when it came to saddling up.

Knowledge was good with horses. The spirit had no skill with them, but she was not spooked by their size or the way they whiffed a neigh and shook their hair as they trotted alongside Solas who was ponying theirs. On the other hand, as the caravans were attached and horses were saddled, Solas brought their Ferelden breeds along and Asha's heart quickened. She tried to approach hers but it whinnied – rearing its head back. Solas quickly stroked the horse, a muttering in its ears, and he helped ease the woman into the saddle after it had calmed down.

"We will need to work on this. They sense your unsteadiness. Just relax," he said as he stroked the horse's hair soothing into their ear, all the while a hand still on Asha's lower back from helping her up, as if to soothe her as well. Then he took the reins and mounted his with ease, directing them both to follow the procession of the Inquisition as they made their way through the thin forest towards the open road. It was difficult to relax when everything was hurting, but the elf's strategy worked with her mount. Soon she was not feeling as erratic as before. It didn't stop the bruising of her body from aching with each trot of the horse. No one had ever said to her that horse riding was an unpleasant experience – she felt betrayed by her students' gushes of pleasure and faraway looks when she'd listen to their stories of ventures on weekends and training ponies at their farms after school. Liars.

-0-

Hawke was never the hero Sariel had envisioned from the stories they had heard and read. For one, he was a grim-faced and unshaven man with hair of black ink. Secondly, as he threw his jacket behind him and dismounted from his black horse, the Champion's eyes held no friendly greeting, glinting as sharply as the two blade hilts on his back. He only nodded recognition to Sariel and the Warden called Stroud, but a hand clasp to Varric and a smile in his eyes to the dwarf showed he was not completely without heart. Thirdly, he was as covert as Cole, steeling away from the Warden, Sariel and his agents during their meeting.

Gathered around a makeshift table of crates, the Inquisition paused their journey to Halamshiral only for the arranged conference with Stroud and Hawke after two days of swift riding. The Chargers left their reports with The Iron Bull and continued back to Skyhold after leading the men to the small meeting spot, disappearing off the Imperial Highway back into the mountainous tracks where the Inquisition had arrived from that morning. Dark stormy clouds rolled in as the meeting formed.

"Clarel is not herself, she would never come to these conclusions on her own," the Warden was explaining, scratching his beard. "The Calling still beckons us all. It chills my bones to think I have heard it so early…and yet I cannot help but think we cannot go along with blood sacrifice to summon demons to end it all."

"It is conveniently happening after Corypheus has revealed himself to us," Cassandra said.

"What would happen if this demon army of theirs was successful in killing the Old Gods?" Sariel ventured. "Would it truly end all the darkspawn? Future Blights?"

"You mean if blood sacrificing to summon a demon army that does not turn on them actually works? Who knows," muttered Stroud, shaking his head at the ground.

"Most likely more chaos for this world to encounter than ever before," said Cassandra. "Let's not let them actually succeed in their demon army first."

"The Calling is drawing us to the West only from yesterday – it has only become strong enough to sense where we are to collect," said the Warden. "From where we've been placed in Thedas, it will take another two weeks before the majority of us are there. I will go ahead to the Western Approach – I believe you have camps on the way?"

The Inquisitor nodded and Leliana stepped in, mapping out the safest routes on parchment. As she scribbled the last camp location onto the sheer paper, retracing the map and passing it to Stroud, Sariel looked around them, confused.

"Where is Hawke?"

The sudden flare of a barrier shot out from the camp behind them, and their papers and seats were discarded for their swords and weapons in hand as Stroud, Sariel and his agents bolted towards it. The camp's attention was caught for the second time that day on Solas' charge, however they stood back, not intervening.

Varric was calling out to them as the Inquistor drew closer, "He didn't do anything!"

They saw the back of Hawke as he stood tall before Asha who was flinched away from him; her jacket was off one shoulder as if she had been taking it off. Her hands were raised, staffless but ready to cast. Her barrier flared before her. He was saying something to her, making her scoff, perplexed at the dark-haired man. She saw the Inquisitor and his men approaching and then at Hawke, stepping even further back but putting down her hands. Her barrier did not dwindle.

The Champion turned to meet the elf eye-to-eye. "I wanted to meet your possessed mage for myself, Inquisitor."

"You came out of nowhere," said the woman, looking from Hawke to the elf. "I've already burnt and frozen someone today."

"There's no need to sneak up on anyone here," said Sariel, frowning towards Asha. "Garrett Hawke here is a friend of the Inquisition."

With a deep breath, Asha's barrier dissipated slowly before her. She inspected the dark-haired man up and down. He reminded her of a pirate, his gaunt face also returning the inspection, his thin lips shrewdly turned as if he had chewed something bitter.

"Mind you watch her closely, Inquisitor," he muttered to Sariel. "It is a huge risk you are taking, trusting her. But you already know that." He shrugged, wandering over to Stroud. "So, what did we decide?"

As the camp relaxed around them, and the finalities drawn between Stroud and Hawke, the Inquisitor approached Asha while his agents were distracted with the Champion and the Warden.

"What happened?"

"He really did just appear. I was stretching, no one was near me. Then all of a sudden, there he was," she said, animating her words with her hands. "I nearly set him on fire."

"I did hear about this morning," he said disconcertedly.

She held her head up at him, her eyes wary as she held his. She did not reply.

Sariel sighed. "If you stay on her good side, Sera is harmless."

The woman raised her eyebrows in disbelief. "Does she have a good side?"

He shook his head with a silent laugh as the camp began to pack up around them; the purpose of their break was over, and they were to continue to the Winter Palace along the Highway, Hawke and Stroud breaking off from their troupe to travel further westward on their own.

"Inquisitor, two things," said Asha as he began to turn. "First: he asked what was I really here for." She watched a few men gather their bags of food and water that they had shared around during their break, then head back to the carriages and horses. "He said that I better leave if I was planning anything of misfortune." She frowned at the Inquisitor. "But obviously, that's probably common with me at the moment. There is no other way to convince anyone further besides what we're doing already."

"What does Knowledge think of this?"

"I don't know. I haven't heard her yet," she said, her brows furrowing further together. "But, Inquisitor. It's clear he doesn't want me here."

"He may not, but here you are." It was then that Sariel realised why he felt so uncomfortable around her – it was the highest amount of emotion he had witnessed on this woman's face that he had ever seen. He had grown so used to the spirit's vague attitude and expressionless face with white eyes that looking into Asha's eyes the colour of red bark whose voice was clear and projected, who stood straight-backed with authority. Gone was the ambient blank stare of the spirit, the aloof air of her movements now direct, as were her eyes.

"Yes, I am here, for now. Which in any case, my second point is: thank you." She had folded her long jacket and held it in her crossed arms. "I can actually say it for myself. Thank you for helping me. I didn't expect this much since you are in the middle of a war and all this," she waved around them, "-unrest. So, thank you." She bowed her head to him as she had noted was customary for anyone speaking to the Inquisitor.

But she saw the flash of a cringe before he nodded down at her, and took his leave. Left standing in the emptied clearing, she sighed. Being back in control was exhausting. She rebelted her satchels on her side and tied her hair that had grown a little longer into a half ponytail. As she wandered through the thin woods following the other troops towards their horses closer to the roads, she found Solas animatedly in discussion with Dorian Pavus, the Necromancer.

Dorian's 'unicorn' as he called it, breathed a neigh towards the nearing woman, and both men turned.

"Calm is key, Asha," said Solas as she drew near, keeping his eyes on the mount's face as he heard her steps slowing down to a meander. "They will always mimic your emotions unless frightened by something else."

She reached a hand up to the mount, and Dorian said, "Oh. It's not her."

Solas watched Knowledge pat the skin of the dead mount, her eyes filled with the whiteness of the Fade where Asha and Solas had been.

"She is fine," the spirit said before he could ask. "She is happy I will be riding this next part. Also," she turned her head to face both men, a seriousness to her face that Knowledge usually did not hold, "Hawke may want to kill us. But the Inquisitor knows."

"Oh. Well that's good. That the Inquisitor knows, not that Hawke wants you dead," said Dorian. "Why does he want you dead?"

"She houses a spirit; most people wanted her dead. Of course there are some that still do," Solas muttered the last part to himself.

"I don't understand why the man would care about her – how much does he know?" said Dorian as they saddled up, Solas holding both sets of reins as Knowledge and Asha were ponied again by the elf.

 _We should probably learn how to ride_ , thought Asha.

"Agreed," whispered the spirt.

"Everything that the Inquisitor would have told him, I suspect."

"Wait. Hawke's partner was a mage," thought Dorian. "Is it true – was he the same mage that blew up the chantry in Kirkwall?" The men sped their horses up to keep in speed with the rest of the Inquisition's mounts travelling behind the carriages.

"It is true." Ahead, Knowledge could see the outline of Sariel's Hart leading the way, flanked by his men as they travelled the empty road, the sky almost blackened like nightfall.

"Whatever happened to him?"

The elf turned to look from Knowledge to Dorian.

"He killed him."

-0-0-0-

Thank you The-Incubus and Guest Reviewer for letting me know about the formatting issue! A good reminder to not upload chapters at midnight without double checking it worked!


	13. Chapter 13 - Halamshiral

The early evening was as dark as the witching hour. The storm clouds trailed the Inquisition all the way to the gates of Halamshiral, breeding anxious mutters amongst the council of the Inquisitor as they stepped off their finely groomed horses. Boots clinked from the stirrups as they stepped onto the intricately designed pavers of greys and blues, each of handcrafted elegance.

Dorian extended a hand to Knowledge showing perfect sets of genteel whites. She carefully slipped off the horse, her gown floating around her ankles. He tucked her arm through his elbow, patting it absentmindedly as they took in their surroundings. Her Elven mentor passed the sets of reins to another elf that had suddenly appeared, his garb of deep green almost blending him into the gardens. His feet were also wrapped in the unusual style that Solas usually wore, and he was bare of tattooed markings. This elf did not stand tall nor hold their attention as he took the reins silently and led the horses away, a pause ever so slightly held between the men as the exchange was made.

Thunder cracked, it's echoes emanating across the sky and the palace's windows and shadowy balconies were highlighted as the following flash of lightning lit the magnificent palace before them. They were led towards the entrance, pavers traded for soft grass as they walked through the garden path. Whispers followed them like shadows as guests and nobles in the midst of the sweet floral scents of greenery watched them through faces that weren't theirs. The masks of the Orlesians made Knowledge's skin prickle. None of the Inquisition save Knowledge and Asha wore one, and the spirit kept tucking loose curls behind their ear – a pretence for checking their lace-lined mask was pressed firmly to their face. She was untrusting of the ribbons tying it back woven ornately through their hair. The high gates creaked open before them, guards lining in assembly to lead them further in.

"I wonder what would happen if you were made Tranquil?" Dorian thought aloud as they slowed their pace, watching Inquisitor Sariel greet a formidable looking man with a metallic mask, its nose long and pointed. "Have you discussed this already with Solas? Would that banish you back to the Fade or -"

"Dorian. We are here. _Lady Glenbar_ is the guest of the Inquisition. Act like it," Vivienne hissed through smiling teeth as she nodded daintily to a couple who were dressed extravagantly in the fashion of the Orlesians. They returned enthusiastic acknowledgement and excited whispering between them: Madame de Fer was highly approved of.

"Just making light conversation," Dorian said as Varric laughed quietly behind them.

"Inquisitor Lavellan, it is an honour to meet you at last." Grand Duke Gaspard greeted Sariel with the same accent as Vivienne; eloquent and drawling as if each word enunciated was of the utmost importance. Sariel was still quite tall against the broader man, his hair not in his usual high bun but braided from the front to the back; its elegance on anyone else would have clashed with their title and formality of the evening, but the Elven Inquisitor with his striking features of white hair and pale Vallaslin seemed ever the more regal for it.

"The rumours coming out of the Western Approach say you battled an army of demons. Imagine what the Inquisition could accomplish with the full support of the rightful emperor of Orlais," continued the masked man.

Dorian patted the back of Knowledge's hand. She forced herself to exhale, loosening her grip on the mage.

"It would be beneficial indeed, for both Orlais and the Inquisition," Sariel replied.

"Well then keep the image firmly in mind. We may see it materialise by the end of the evening," Gaspard said as they walked towards the palace doors that invited them in with glows of warmth and echoes of laughter. "I am not a man who forgets his friends, Inquisitor. You help me, I'll help you. You will be shocking the assembly by appearing as the guest of an hateful usurper. Are you prepared, my lord?"

"We are obviously not here for the party."

The Duke laughed. "I knew we would get along famously, Inquisitior."

Knowledge was confused about the man before them, and turned slowly to gauge the reactions on the Inquisition's faces. Many were blank save Solas and Varric who shared their distaste in the boot-licking noble.

"I must warn you Inquisitor, there is a matter you could attend to this evening, as a friend. This elven woman, Briala…I suspect she intends to disrupt the negotiations."

"How?"

"My people have found these 'ambassadors', spies no less, all over the fortifications. Sabotage seems the least of their crimes," he said quietly.

"And is there further evidence of these plans of sabotage?" Sariel's eyes narrowed.

"If anyone in this court wishes Celene harm, Inquisitor, it is this Briala. Not because she is an elf, but because she certainly has reason. Be as discreet as possible," he said as they entered the palace and the steps together. A hissed breath from Solas behind them prompted Dorian to raise his brows to Knowledge.

"We will certainly try, but it has never been our forte."

Gaspard's attention was pulled to the rest of the Inquisition, his eyes falling on Knowledge in her gown of gold and pale white. Another thunderous crack erupted causing the women in front of them to shriek, then laugh.

"This is a brewing storm," muttered the Orlesian. "Let us be safe and dry from its wicked graces tonight. Especially with our civilian guests, my lady?" Caught off guard as the Duke nodded to Knowledge, Dorian released her arm and muttered in a cough to her. She slowly half-curtsied to the noble in reply. He bowed deeply, his eyes through his mask not leaving hers until they rose. As quickly as he addressed her, he snapped back to Sariel.

"I detest The Game but if we do not play it well, our enemies will make us look like villains. Shall we, Inquisitor?"

At the top of the wide velvet stairway, the entrance hall opened before them to reveal more velvet steps leading down into the greeting room, a vast space filled with fine gentry and an air of mystery. A fair man with a pompous outfit of purple and gold gestured them through as he stood to attention, announcing the Inquisition's arrival. Across the golden room stood a woman in regal blue, her dress billowing out around her waist to the floor, her mask glinting at them in the distance. She held her head high and only nodded at the mention of Duke Gaspard and Inquisitor Sariel with no regard to his fellow companions save her curiosity openly displayed when the announcement arose of Lady Glenbar, guest of the Inquisition with Ser Dorian Pavus, of the Tevinter Imperium.

"Do smile," he grinned as they stepped down past the nobles whispering excitedly. Snippets of conversations travelled to Knowledge's ears – intrigue and garbled words. Her neck itched from the whispers bouncing around the room but not as much attention seemed on her as The Iron Bull, the handsome 'Vint' beside her and of course, Inquisitor Sariel. When Solas was announced, Knowledge gasped as he was titled 'Elven servant of the Inquisition'.

The detestation of elves was clear from the moment they had stepped into the Winter Palace, but to be so openly displayed garnered a mixture of emotions between the spirit and the woman inside. The strange exchange between Solas and the horse gatherer suddenly made sense. Knowledge could feel her blood boiling at the words they overheard cussing at the Inquisitor. Though the spirit did not understand the hatred of species – it was clear tonight would be a difficult task. They had arrived to ensure discussions of peace were in order and walked into a more complicated matter of politics and social order of which both Knowledge and Asha were not highly educated in.

Dorian and Knowledge stood before the Empress of Halamshiral. She seemed almost whimsical, with her lofty smile and dramatic air of postures and poses. Smiling down at them from her balcony, both mages bowed graciously before being waved on by the guards. As they reached the top of the stairs to the side gathering back with their party, the spirit tried to see where they had first appeared in the vast hall through the view of glittering veils, masks and gowns spread so far back to where they had arrived – she could not even remember crossing that far.

Sariel was already deep in discussion with Commander Cullen and Leliana. His eyes searched their surroundings as he spoke. "So far we are down to this Lady Morrigan, Gaspard, Briala and then anyone else who is interested in murdering the empress." He waved off Cassandra's look to shush him. "Everyone knows why we are here, what's the point?"

"We could plot more discreetly to survive the night, Inquisitor?" said Leliana.

"Cullen – your thoughts on Gaspard?"

"He would make the best emperor for Orlais, however succeeding power through murder is not his type of play," said the commander. "I don't believe he would kill Celene, nor command his men to do so – although that isn't to say he won't try to lure Briala into a confrontation. We need to look into this woman who apparently is romantically linked to Celene."

The giggle of women gathered nearby were eyeing the back of Cullen's blonde hair, whispering to themselves behind their feathered fans.

"It seems we hardly have enough on either of them," muttered Sariel. "We need more information. _Lady_ Glenbar, you will be chaperoned by Dorian and Josephine. Do not approach this Morrigan woman until we group again. Cassandra, Solas, Varric – I'll be back when I need you." They nodded and the Inquisitor left with Cullen in stride. The Inquisition dispersed throughout the palace and the women's disappointment echoed after them.

The ballroom was brightly lit, gilded candelabras ensuring there were no dark corners in the vast hall. Layers of dresses, their silks and lace twirling in the light, glimmered as ladies and men danced in sequence. The steps were simple, elegant and highly manageable in their tailored attire. As the men stepped around their partners they twirled their hands and put an arm around their waists – the steps repeated and gradually the crescendo built in volume and pace and soon the whole floor was a myriad of spins and sways until the song finished with a grand sweep from the musicians. All the dancers bowed to each other and applauded, and so did Knowledge and Dorian as they watched from above with the rest of the onlookers.

Josephine introduced them to her little sister – a young woman with the same dark hair and warm russet skin tone as herself. The young woman took no notice of Knowledge, instead swooning over Dorian and also taking a severe interest in asking after Commander Cullen, disappointment apparent. Leaving her with her sister, Dorian and Knowledge wandered down the hall away from the ballroom and found themselves in a gallery of sorts.

The Hall of Heroes was a cavernous room, long shadows cast by the statues and structures decorating it. Candles lit and placed before ornaments of men and women cast in white marble made their faces hooded, the corners of their mouths turned in disdain and following them as they travelled through feeling very conspicuous to the pair of elven servants watching them, the only others in the room.

"Let's get back," muttered Dorian as he tucked her hand back into his arm, leading her out of the place without even glancing at the servant women holding trays of food and drink who were stopped and silent, watching them.

The doors led them into another narrow hallway, this one lined with guards. They could see out the windows to an outdoor grassed terrace – the stars could not be seen through the thick storm, and another flash of lightning showed not a soul was enjoying the extravagantly sculptured rooftop garden. Continuing down the hall, they followed the sounds of music and chatter and nearly covered their ears from the explosion of noise compared to the silent halls they had come from. They found themselves on the other side of the ballroom. Looking across, they could easily pick out the red suits of the Inquisition – Josephine was now accompanied by Sariel and Cullen, already back from their espionage, and Yvette's enthusiasm over the men was apparent. As they made their way around past the stairs which led down to the dancefloor their way was suddenly blocked. Duke Gaspard was before them, a smile half-hidden under his pointed mask.

"Pardon my intrusion ser, I wish to ask Lady Glenbar for the next dance. Unless, you are already engaged?" Dorian looked in the direction of Sariel who was also watching them, his face unreadable across the hall.

"Of course not," Dorian said nonchalantly, presenting Knowledge to the Duke who half-bowed and made an air of kissing her hand. His lips never met her skin. "She was just telling me about how she last danced some years ago."

Knowledge let the Duke take her hand and looked back at the mage who waved her on with a smile. She was chaperoned down the stairs, her throat tightening and dry. She glanced again at the mage who was still smiling but unmoving from his spot at the top. He nodded, but she was not reassured. Trying to wet her parched throat she turned her attention to the flurry of motion before her as all the dancers took their places.

Chandeliers illuminated the floor, the glittering mass above them transfixed the spirit. The song started, and Gaspard took her hand and led her further into the centre of the stage. Holding her hand up with his, the other on her waist, she gingerly placed hers on his shoulder.

"There is no need to be nervous! It is Asha, is it not? Relax, and follow me." The Duke laughed as the beat rose in melody, and they stepped double back and double forwards in time: one-two, one-two.

"So, how is it that you came to be a guest of Inquisitor Lavellan? You are certainly striking to many who do not know you."

Knowledge was terrible at trying to keep her head upright at the Duke – his mask was even more off-putting up close, and a bitter smell upon him made her nose curl. She disguised this with a weak laugh and nearly tripped over her own foot. One-two.

As she tried to answer, she fumbled the next step again and her neck flushed with heat. She really was not trying to make a mistake, but the crowded dance floor, the increasing pace and the scratching of violins; she could not concentrate. "Inquisitor Lavellan invited me to represent the common people, my lord, in Skyhold."

"And why would he do such a thing? Are you lovers?"

The Duke spun her around on the spot, one, two, three times. Her head was light, her mask slipping to the side. The question completely threw her off and she was baffled to answer until they were back to one-twoing steps after the set of spins.

" _No_. He cares for his people. He wants what is best for us all, as well as to defeat the demons pouring out from these rifts, and the threat of Corypheus." She was talking too quickly. "We are all affected by war, so besides his captain and the Left and Right Hands of the Divine, he wanted us represented as well. Would you not want all of your people represented, my lord?"

Vivienne would be disappointed at her deflection of questions with questions.

"Ah. Of course. Forgive me for being blunt, but it does not seem like he brought you here for that reason."

The music reached its reverie, slowing to a swaying one-pause-two-pause, one-pause-two-pause. The Duke's eyes seared into hers as the dancing slowed almost to a falter. They neared the side of the hall, and in the soft lull of the dance even Knowledge tried to breath quietly, feeling the rising tension to come as crescendos do.

"I am saying, Lady Glenbar, that I don't believe that you are not involved with him. Or that you do not care for him at least. And also, more importantly, that there is something afoot tonight with the Inquisition."

This was not part of her rehearsal. No amount of training in courtly conversations could prepare the spirit for a single dance with the Orlesian man.

She did not reply; she had no reply to the Duke. With a triumphant grin, he pressed her closer as they spun with the swelling of the symphony ushering the other dancers, rotating around the whole floor. Knowledge tried to catch sight of the red coats, but she could not pull her focus from the Duke's strong guidance across the floor, following the couples around the dance hall as the music began to strike its dramatic ending.

"Who are you really, my Lady?" The Duke demanded with a grin as he slowed Knowledge's spinning by firmly gripping her waist and shoulder – she would have spun off if he had not have stopped her.

Trying not to shake her head with dizziness, she said as firmly as she could muster, "I _am_ Lady Glenbar. Thank you for the dance, my lord. We are quite done."

Knowledge curtsied quickly, her foot slipping as she misjudged her step. Her neck was burning furiously, her cheeks flushed from dancing and embarrassment.

"The pleasure was mine," he was saying smugly as she turned, not waiting for him to return the gesture. Knowledge nearly ran into another couple who scoffed at her from under their masks. She hurried past the outer edge of dancers, trailing her hand over the bannister as she refrained from lifting her dress to run up the stairs. She gasped when Dorian appeared before her, dark brows furrowed and lips pressed. He swung her arm back into his and pulled her into stride along the crowded balcony of spectators and drinkers.

"Calm down," he said to her. He expertly filched a crystal glass off a platter an Elven woman held out to a pair of elderly men and passed it to her. The spirit had not realised she had clung so tightly to his arm, her breath held in tension, unused to the feeling of bewilderment she was experiencing. She took the drink and sniffed it, and with one look of disapproval from the Tevinter mage, she took a large swig coughing it down as he patted her arm again almost absentmindedly navigating their way through the sea of noble finery.

Over the excited noise and above the music on the dance floor, the cracks of thunder were muffled from behind the thick paned windows they passed. Flashes of light and the spatter of rain filled their view – the storm had finally broken after following the Inquisition from the Imperial Highway to Halamshiral.

"Knowledge?" Solas stepped out from the hollow he had been leaning in, leaving his deep burgundy wine behind on the high table. His face was creased with concern, flicking a look at Dorian. "It looked like you held yourself well with the Duke – but looks are entirely deceiving. What did he ask?"

"He knows we are planning something tonight," she said slowly, blinking hard as she took a sip of her clear drink. "And he suspects me of…being involved with…"

"What? Are you _blushing_?" said Dorian, intrigued.

She shook her head, but not as if she was saying no. She shook her head as if she were getting rid of an annoying insect buzzing around her, still blinking hard. Solas and Dorian were startled as she was spilling the glass in her hand, then she stopped, noticing this was happening. She lifted it high, inspecting its contents.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes. I am now." She stretched her neck from side to side, then rolled her shoulders. In a flash she downed the rest of the wine, licked a drop from her lip, then raised her hand to her mask. Flicking it up quickly, she showed her brown eyes to the alarmed men then replaced the mask again.

"I'm back."

"This is happening more often now?"

"Apparently. Thank God," Asha replied, looking for somewhere to place her empty glass.

"Which one?"

"Never mind. Knowledge was cornered by the Duke – he knows something is up and thinks Knowledge is Sariel's lover. Which is a fair assumption, we do look like a proper lady tonight." The woman twirled their dress at her knees. "Although I do feel completely exposed in this, not wearing red with the rest of you." Solas shook his head at her.

"It wouldn't suit you," Dorian said instantly. "The red _and_ being with the Inquisitor." This made Solas snort.

"I know. But I would have blended in better at least. Ah, speaking of the Inquisitor," Asha said as Sariel and Cassandra approached them through the crowd, neither looking particularly pleased.

They looked over the three before them, and Sariel's eyes landed on Asha with her empty glass and said, "I'm glad you have been enjoying the party. What the hell happened with Gaspard? Why didn't you regroup with us?"

"My apologies, Inquisitor, but I had to regain myself after dancing with that man." Her shoulders shuddered, her lips twisted in disgust as she quickly flicked her mask at the warriors before them, Cassandra's jaw nearly hitting the floor as realisation set in. "I am not dancing with him again."

Sariel pinched the bridge of nose with his eyes closed, slowly sighing. "Will this keep happening? Can you stay in control for the rest of the night at least?"

"Wait, this is actually good," said Cassandra. "If this Morrigan woman tries to accuse us in front of the court about Asha, she will only look all the more normal."

"Yes, just another normal mage," laughed the Tevene man.

"Back to the point – how did you – Knowledge – do with Gaspard?" asked Sariel.

The three mages looked at each other. Relaxed by the wine, Asha and Dorian hardly suppressed their smirks.

"The Duke knows we're plotting but not what it is," Asha said.

"There is more, apparently," Cassandra said, her eyebrow raising. She tried to read Solas' face but the elf was blankly shrugging.

"He seems to think Lady Glenbar is part of your plans tonight, Inquisitor." Dorian's words made Asha scoff this time, and she feigned clearing her throat.

"What do you mean?"

"You know. _Plans_ ," Dorian said raising his brows suggestively.

"You are acting like this is a huge joke when the Empress' life is on the line!" hissed the Seeker, glaring at the mages breathing laughter, Dorian trying to hide his behind a hand.

"Gaspard thinks we're involved Inquisitor," Asha said as directly as possible to the elf. "He thinks I'm a ploy for whatever is happening tonight. That was all he asked – he _assumed_ – about before Knowledge ran off from him. She did very well, considering."

Sariel crossed his arms and turning to each person in turn. "What do you mean Gaspard 'thinks we're involved'?"

Dorian waved his hands as if to encourage him to contemplate the meaning of the words.

"Seriously? He obviously has not been paying very close attention," Sariel scoffed.

Casandra shot a look at him. "We are not here to play courtly romance, Inquisitor. Empress Celene is in danger!"

Sariel held an enigmatic smile. "We are here for the mission. And it seems it is time."

The Inquisitor looked over their shoulders, nodding to the commander approaching behind them. He gestured for Solas to join them, their final act of espionage with Seeker Pentaghast and soon, also Varric.

Before Asha's mentor left, he turned to her saying, "Avoid dancing with anymore Orlesians tonight, if you can."

"Easily done," she laughed. "Good luck."

The men left, and Dorian and Asha looked at each other.

"Maybe we should stick by Josephine," he said as she took her place on his arm.

"Agreed."

"So. _Does_ Knowledge have eyes for the Inquisitor?"

Asha smiled as they meandered around the outer edge of the balcony, making their way back to the ambassador.

"You can ask her later."

"But you _know_. She does, doesn't she? Sorry if you're listening, Knowledge."

"You're hardly sorry."

"No, I'm not. It's quite fascinating, I mean, a spirit and – well, Sariel of all people!"

"Not something that happens often?"

"Well, of course not. Spirits are demons, and demons are not to be trusted." Dorian's voice mimicked the scolding tone of a lecturer. "Although, they can make excellent servants."

"What?"

"A trend in Tevinter more than here. Don't worry, only Elven servants here. Although we do have those back at home too."

Asha shot a look at the mage. "That's not even funny now."

"Ah. I wasn't _trying_ to offend anyone. That's just how life is."

"Is that why you're here? Did you not like Tevinter?"

They were nearly upon Josephine who looked highly relieved at their appearance.

"I'm here because there's a hole in the sky and it's causing doom upon the world."

He produced another wine glass from his other hand then grabbed one for himself as she took the cool glass. They clinked them together, Asha shaking her head at the man as she slowly sipped her white wine.

"Don't believe me? Not many do."

"No, it's not that. You're just so pompous all the time, but really, deep down you're just a good-hearted man trying to do the right thing. Cheers to you." She clinked his glass again.

"Keep talking like that and you'll get me drunk," he said, taking a swig of his glass.

"Thank goodness you are back. I was so worried after the Duke was dancing with you! Are you alright?" Josephine's concern was written all over her face, and her sister was nowhere in sight.

As she assured the ambassador, a flash across the hall caught her sight.

The dancers had dispersed, and the floor was filled with harlequins. Outfits of diamond checkered colours with white faces and red smeared across their eyes and mouths; the sight of so many made Asha uneasy, their demeanour lacking humour. They began to form circles, performing acrobatic moves that granted 'oo's and 'ah's from the delighted nobility. Faster and faster, knives and swords dancing in their hands as others spun and flipped around them – a mesmerising act. Suddenly, they were throwing down at the floor, smoke appeared, and half of the harlequins were gone.

The crowd cheered them on, loving the theatrics, their wine quickly disappearing down their throats in excitement.

The musicians were even replaced by the dressed up entertainers, playing an upbeat song that the dancers cheered and clapped too as they went round and round, spinning, rolling and cartwheeling in time.

The performance continued, and all eyes were turned on the dancers with knives. Dorian was leaning on the balcony, his wine glass resting on its edge as Josephine watched, head bobbing to the light-hearted music. Asha took another sip of her drink and that was when she was grabbed by the shoulders, her wine caught in a white gloved hand that disappeared as quickly as it had appeared, her words muffled by another gloved hand, her mask ripped from her face, replaced with a covering that completely blackened her sight.

A cloth was shoved into her mouth and tied around her head as she was pulled back from the crowds. Pain erupted from her side as something stabbed into her, making her gasp and nearly choke on the rags as she was wrenched away from the swelling music, thrown up in the air and then floating down; down in bounces of stairs, the clinking of boots on smooth surfaces as they ran over tiles, then the sound of rain, gusts of wind. She tried to cast around her, summon a barrier, blast air, but the pain wrenched through her veins completely dulled her focus. A door slammed open, and Asha was hammered with the violent rain that had descended over Halamshiral, and a strange hum that began in her ears. Thrown down onto her knees, her head was yanked back as the covering was torn from her face and she gasped for breath, shivering from the cold downpour and sudden green brightness before her.

The rift gleamed eerily above the waterlogged courtyard, the bolts of fade energy sizzling around it. The reverberating hum now filled Asha's head and she was spellbound by the light. The heavy rain stung her eyes, completely drenched in the stormy downpour. The sound of Sariel's deep voice was clear through the rain.

"You shouldn't take it to heart when I refused to dance with you," he called to someone behind Asha. Varric aimed his crossbow in the same direction, with Solas and Cassandra behind him. He looked strange without his shield and armour and only his sword in one hand, his other hand glowing green, clenched tightly. His eyes flitted from the blade held at Asha's throat to Duchess Florianne behind her. Solas raised his staff to cast, but the hands grasped Asha's neck and the jagged blade was pressed firmly against her skin – any movement would cut deep. The elf gritted his teeth and lowered his staff slowly.

The elusive cousin to Celene and sister to Gaspard was sheltered underneath silk umbrellas of red and golds, her harlequin handmaids by her side, and the opening rift separating the Inquisitor and the rogues.

"You should not have been so rude as to refuse me, Inquisitor," the masked woman drawled. "Corypheus will have what he wants – Celene will die and he will triumph. Goodbye, my lord."

The rift exploded, opening pathways between the Fade and Thedas. Flashes of blue erupted around a summoning coming through – Solas completed the dispelling and the green emittances died, echoes of magic flitted in its place. But there were more already coming through – Cassandra cut down a demon with ragged robes and blue fiery eyes, its screech scraping through Asha's brain as her head was bagged again, and this time was thrown over a shoulder as thick and hard as a brick house. She thrashed weakly against her captor; every time she tried to hit their head with hers it was like a pillow hitting wall. Her head was splitting in half from the effort and her blood was acid inside her, burning from her toes to her brain. She screamed and sputtered into the bag, struggling to breath, her legs feebly kicking.

Asha's captor had no problem continuing to run through all this – this time the bump-bump-bump of ascending stairs and then a change of pace; slowly slithering around corners, and stopping at points. She tried to remember how many turns, how many stairs, but she could not think straight through her scorching insides, her face drenched in tears and sweat. No effort of coughing or swallowing could stop the lava of fiery pain in her throat, soon reaching into the backs of her eyes. She was placed on cold ground, suddenly unmasked. The brightness of the room only added to her agony and confusion and Florianne held her head back, flicking the dark-haired woman's eyelids, inspecting their contents.

"This is no spirit," spat the Duchess. "This is just a woman."

"The letter said there would be a possessed human with the Inquisitor – " a knife entered the harlequin's throat and she dropped to the floor.

With an almighty roar, the doors burst open and a blur of a dark-haired man appeared – purple smoke filled the room. The sounds of yells and fighting, and then silence. A gust of wind encircled the room and the haze disappeared, leaving Dorian in the middle, two bodies on either side of him. Florianne was nowhere to be seen.

"Asha!" He ran to her and held her head up – she didn't respond. Her slapped her cheeks and flicked her eyes, but they were rolled into the back of her head. Her skin was paled, her clothes drenched. Blood was dripping from her nose down her chin and then her body started to spasm in his arms.

He cursed, picked her up in his arms and ran – Florianne had taken her into the empty apartments upstairs to the courtyard. The mage was furious with himself. He had allowed her to be taken. He should have known the ridiculous clowns were part of a diversion. He had followed the harlequins to the courtyard from the Ballroom – found his comrades and the Inquisitor slaying demons that had erupted from the Fade rift. Two more openings remained, and as Sariel finished closing one with the same green energy that poured from his hand as the rifts, he saw the mage try to join the fight.

"They've taken Asha! Get her!" Sariel had commanded him through the rain, pointing his cursed hand towards the buildings.

Dorian raced as quickly as he could back to that very spot in the courtyard, Asha's convulsions non-stop as he held her tightly praying she didn't bite her own tongue off.

He jumped the last few stairs of the damn maze of a building and flew out the door; the rain had thinned but the wind was roaring straight through their saturated outfits. The green light of the Fade rift was emanating as Sariel raised his marked hand at it. The crackle of the connection that erupted from his hand to the Fade always made Dorian's chest tighten at the majestic sight; this was why he was called the Herald of Andraste. The rift shattered, its magic dissipating in the wind around them.

"Inquisitor!"

Dorian appeared before him, breathing hard and trying to lay Asha down – he had to hold her down to the ground, her seizures increasing. Cassandra gasped at the sight of her, her black hair plastered to her face. Solas ran over, holding a wound on his arm.

"Get her mouth open!" urged her mentor as he produced a vial of grey liquid from his belt.

Dorian acquiesced as Solas bit off the stopper and poured the contents down the mage's throat, then quickly closed her mouth holding it shut firmly. Dorian uttered a protest but then Asha's arms went straight to the elf's hands, grabbing and trying to shove him away. She pushed and hit at his arms, completely berserked; her eyes rolling back and forth in and out of consciousness and her screams making the Tevene man cringe. The elf winced as she hit his wound and Varric backed away, gritting his teeth as they watched her writhe, her convulsions slowing. Sariel dropped his sword to hold her hands back as Dorian wove healing energy above her chest. Her arms drooped in the Inquisitor's grasp and her eyes fluttered, her head still rhythmically starting.

"We need to get the poison out of her," The mage elf said to Dorian. "This will only slow it down."

Her head fell back as he threaded the wisps of the spell through her body, following her blood flow from top to bottom to soothe and heal, diverting what pain he could take away from her heart. Solas slowly took his hand from her mouth and mirrored Dorian's actions, pushing and pulling energy through her body. Her centre convulsed again and Sariel went to hold back her arms when Solas instructed him to roll her instead. The Inquisitor moved her on her side and Solas placed his hand at the small of her back, pouring magic in. Then he forced a wave of energy through her, and Asha threw up, red heave thickly rolling out of her mouth towards Dorian who cried out in disgust.

"You could have warned me!" He helped clear her mouth, shuddering as Cassandra poured water over, cleaning her.

"What was that?" Sariel asked as he picked her up in his arms.

"A nasty poison. One that I haven't seen in years," said Solas, checking her pulse and placing a mark on her forehead that burned white and then disappeared into her skin. "The worst is gone, but we need to treat her quickly. It will take time to remove what remains."

"We need to stop Florianne, she could already be back at the Ball!" urged Cassandra.

"We do need to stop her." Sariel passed Asha to Cassandra who easily carried the woman. She looked betrayed at her leader, but did not argue with the storm raging in his eyes as he spoke. "I need you all to get her back to camp – get out of here by any means. I will take care of Florianne."

No one argued with the Inquisitor who was already gone, racing against time to save Empress Celene from her predicted assassination. Seeker Pentaghast looked torn for a moment, watching him go.

"Cassandra!"

"He,'s going to kill her. I _have_ to go!" The warrior turned to Dorian and passed Asha over against the mage's wishes.

"She deserves to die!"

Varric's words were drowned in the rain as she raced after Sariel, disappearing into the darkness of the entrance back towards the Grand Hall and the Ballroom, leaving the cursing mage, the elf and the dwarf to navigate the dark gardens of Halamshiral around its edges back to the entrance of the Winter Palace.

As they hurried around the empty gardens, drudging up the wet earth and battling against the torrential rain that began again, Sariel entered the crowded Ballroom – rain dripped from his coat as he passed his sword to Cullen who had run up to him, mouth agape.

"I'm going to have a word with the Grand Duchess," was all the elf said as he strode straight past the members of the Inquisition, past men and women who parted before him, gasping at the sight of him leaving a trail of water in his wake.

Florianne was nodding to something Gaspard was saying, casually waiting with the elven woman known as Briala as if nothing had happened in the courtyard. She had the whole Ballroom beguiled.

All eyes were turned to the Inquisitor as he stepped up to the set of stairs they were on, Celene's balcony before them and the Empress in her gown of blue beginning to approach. Her eyes were on Sariel, as intrigued at his presence before her as everyone else in the hall.

"We owe the court an explanation, do you not think so, Grand Duchess?" he said, climbing the few steps towards her.

Florianne's eyes went wide, taking a step back.

"Your people have failed to kill me twice tonight, Florianne. Allowing demons into The Winter Palace has failed to stop me tonight. You have said to me, you just needed to keep me out of the Ballroom to strike. To strike down your own cousin, the Empress of Orlais, for none other than Corypheus." Shock and horror spread through the audience, a sea of muttering and open mouths. Gaspard was ordering soldiers, Celene's eyebrows disappearing into her hairline as she stepped back and chevaliers appeared, standing before her.

Cassandra sprinted into the hall, slipping on the tiled floor as she sped around the balconies towards Sariel stepping towards Florianne, pushing through the crowds.

"You have even tried to frame your own brother, Duke Gaspard for the murder of a council emissary. Your ambitious plan did not work though. It is over."

"This is very entertaining Inquisitor," Florianne drawled, her voice wavering, "but you do not imagine anyone here believes this to be true?"

"Inquisitor, do you have evidence to support this?" Gaspard demanded.

"I do."

The Duke huffed, and with one last look at his sister, shook his head and sent his men forward.

"Gaspard, you cannot believe this!" cried the Duchess as the armoured men approached her.

Cassandra was racing down the stairs towards Sariel as he stood before Florianne. He saw Seeker Pentaghast coming towards him and his brows furrowed for a moment.

Florianne was cornered, with the Inquisitor before her, guards on either side, she was hunched and couldn't back away any further, her arms raised.

"Please," she tried, "there has been a mistake!"

The elf's dagger glinted in his hand as he stepped towards the Duchess, the guards grabbing her arms as she cried innocence.

"Sariel!"

Cassandra was coming down the stairs to him.

The Inquisitor hesitated. He held up the dagger.

"Justice should be swift," he said. Then slowly he held the dagger out towards the Seeker who finally reached him. She quickly took the blade from him, catching her breath.

"Yours will come, with a trial and judgement." Sariel nodded to the guards and they took her away as she cried out to Gaspard and Celene, both who turned their heads away from her in disgust. Her words were soon drowned out by the excited rise of whispers from the crowds, devouring the intriguing scene.

"We should speak. In private," Sariel said looking at the Empress, the Duke and the Elven woman. "And I will thank you after this," he whispered to Cassandra before he left with the Duke, his eyes holding hers intensely.

Cassandra's face flushed; she could only nod at him. The Inquisitor turned and led the Orlesians away to be put in their place, their sagging shoulders showing humility was not an emotion they were used to encountering. She watched the back of Sariel disappear as they stepped into a private parlour, imagining him in his drenched red finery and sodden boots, rain still dripping from his finely braided hair as he begins his demand on the Orlesian leaders to finally work together for their country, and to also work with the Inquisition.

She imagined him staring them down with his eyes that were sometimes the colour of emeralds, sometimes the colour of light sapphires.

She smiled and placed herself with Cullen and Leliana outside the room, relieved, weary, closing her eyes a moment. She would tell him how to thank her after this.

-0-

Solas could not understand why his antidote was not working. He had crushed herbs and remade it, more potent – but the stubborn remnants that would not flush out with Dorian and his cleansing spells baffled the elf. For two hours straight the mages had been encouraging healing energy through her, but her higher level of natural magical resistance to being healed meant their efforts were exhausting.

As the necromancer drank a sip of his own stock liquid from his belt to, Solas pondered why she was still suffering so much, still seizing and bleeding from her nose and now her eyes were turning red. It wasn't until he saw Varric staring at her grimly; the dwarf was only keeping watch and trying to pour water down her throat, unable to help heal nor create concoctions that he needed, and then watching Dorian finish with his drink, carefully closing the bottle back into his pouch that he realised what he was missing. The dwarf sat next to her, red coat unbuttoned further and he felt the elf's eyes on him.

"What is it, Chuckles?"

"I've had a thought." Grabbing the knife by his measuring equipment, Solas held Asha's hand up carefully and made an incision before Varric could stop him.

"What are you doing!" Dorian exclaimed, rushing over as Solas collected blood into an empty vial.

The elf's forehead creased as he inspected the sample in the candlelight on the table, intriguing Varric and Dorian to have a closer look. The red liquid glimmered, but there were flakes of dark red grains, and when Solas moved the vial away from the flame the men's eyes widened as it continued to glow red for a moment, but only a moment before fading in the dark.

Varric swore, jumping as far back from the vial and Asha as he could.

"What? What is it?" Dorian said.

"It's red lyrium."


End file.
